Home Fires Burning
by marinawings
Summary: Soon after the ending of the first season, Peter, Nathan, Hiro, and Claire must unite with newcomer Phoebe Agnew to stop Sylar once again. While saving the world, they must come to terms with their relationships with each other.
1. The Dreamers of Dreams

This is my very first Heroes fanfic! I am so excited! I hope you enjoy.

It was written as an alternate second season (no offense to the actual second season; I just thought it would be fun to write my own), and naturally, I don't own Heroes. The story is almost complete as I type (I'm at fifteen chapters, and I plan around eighteen or nineteen), so the plot and ending are already decided, but suggestions are still welcome.

_Main Characters: _Peter Petrelli, Nathan Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura, Claire Bennet, Phoebe Agnew (original character), and some surprise appearances

The rating is for violence. Sylar isn't a very nice person.

**Chapter One (The Dreamers of Dreams)**

Phoebe opened her eyes. The sun was shining.

She could still feel her dream pumping through her blood, dark and heavy like smoke, and she shivered. She sat up slowly, brushing her reddish blond hair back from her face with a sigh. _Just a dream, Phoebe. Just a dream… _She looked down curiously at her long-fingered hands. _How strange it would be if that dream were true! _Then she shook her head. "Time to get up, ye denizen of La La Land!" she chided herself, swinging around to dangle her legs over the edge of her bed.

The darkling dream stayed with her as she took a shower, as she dressed and combed her hair. She walked frowning out of her bathroom, pausing to look at the huge bookcase that devoured one wall of her room. "Too much reading does this sort of thing to you," she told herself, crossing her arms. "Makes you crazy."

"Phoebe! Are you awake?" a voice called from across the hall.

"I'm up, Mom," Phoebe replied, crossing the book-littered floor to her door. She peered out into the hall, spying her mother walking toward the kitchen. "What's for breakfast?"

"Well, I made grits for your dad, but I know you don't like those," Emily Agnew replied. "So you can have some toast and oranges if you like."

Phoebe smiled. Her picky eating habits had been her mother's bane for her entire twenty-four years. "Thanks, Mom."

Emily walked back down the hall, peering worriedly at her daughter. "You don't usually sleep in this late, Phoebe," she said, hands on her hips. She raised one eyebrow. "Is this what college does to you?"

Phoebe smiled wearily and shook her head. "No, Mom." Her throat tightened at the word "college." She had abruptly quit the university, one semester before her Master's degree in English. "It's just--"  
"Honey, you don't have to explain yourself," Emily insisted, smiling tenderly at her daughter. "You can tell me about it when you're ready."

_Sure, Mom. How's this sound? I quite college because I think either I'm going crazy or I belong with the X-men. Take your pick. _"Thanks, Mom." She managed a weary smile. "Toast sounds good. Grape jelly?"

Emily winked. "Always."

Phoebe followed her mother into the big, sunny kitchen. She paused for a moment in the doorway, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, memories of her childhood haunting her pleasantly. She opened her eyes. "Has Dad already left?"

"Yes. Phoebe, it's almost ten o'clock." Emily narrowed her green eyes on her daughter. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Phoebe nodded, crossing her arms. "Yes. I'm fine." She sighed. "'Dark have been my dreams of late,'" she quoted.

"Lord of the Rings?" Emily asked.

Phoebe nodded. "Lord of the Rings."

"Well, come sit down, honey, and you can tell me all about your dark dreams," said Emily, bustling about the kitchen. "And I'll put extra jelly on your toast."

"Okay, Mom," said Phoebe, wondering frantically which parts of her dreams to leave out. "Sounds good. Do you want me to help you with anything?"

"Sit down, Phoebe," Emily insisted. "It's your first morning home from college. I am quite happy to fix your breakfast." She began slathering butter and jelly on a warm piece of toast. "So when do you start your job at Union Wells?"

"Next month." Phoebe crossed the tile floor to the refrigerator to pour herself a glass of chocolate milk. "It's perfect timing. They had an English teacher put in her month's notice right about the time I decided to…" She swallowed. "…Come home."

"Did you hear about all the crazy things that happened up there a few weeks ago?" Emily turned around and set a plate of toast and sliced oranges on the table. "Sit _down_, Phoebe."

Phoebe sat sheepishly, taking a sip of milk.

"Always so restless," Emily teased good-naturedly. She sat across from her daughter, sliding the plate across the table. "So… Do you want to hear about it?"

"Yes. Tell me." Phoebe grabbed a piece of toast and bit off a piece, eyes on her mother, curious.

"One of the cheerleaders was killed--murdered," Emily told her. "Another barely escaped with her life. It was terrible."

Phoebe's eyes, green like her mother's, widened, brows raising. "Are you serious? Maybe I should be looking into another job…"

Emily waved a hand at her. "The one who did it isn't even in state anymore--at least, that's what I hear. For awhile, they were suspicious of some other guy, the brother of a politician from New York. Then they found out that he was a hero. If he hadn't been there, the cheerleader who survived wouldn't have."

"Wow." Phoebe chewed and swallowed a delectable bit of orange. "That's crazy."

Emily leaned forward, smiling conspiratorially. "I heard that some things happened that night that have never been explained. The surviving cheerleader got away without a scratch. And so did her rescuer, that young man who happened to have fallen five stories. It's almost… supernatural. Like X-men or something."

Phoebe choked on her orange.

"Honey, are you alright?" Emily asked.

Phoebe swallowed the offending bite, eyes watering. "Fine, Mom." She smiled. "I really missed our breakfasts together when I was at the university."

Emily reached across the table to pat her daughter's hand. "Me, too." Then she stood. "You said you have a lot of money saved back from your job at the college. Maybe you should take yourself out shopping, buy yourself some nice things."

Phoebe glanced up at her mother. "Why don't you come with me?"

"I've got to go with the church ladies to Miss Weston's house," Emily explained. "She needs a little cheer. And so do you. Go to town. Spend big bucks. That'll make you feel better."

Phoebe lifted her glass of chocolate milk, staring down into the murky brown depths of it. "Good idea, Mom. Maybe I will…"

Emily bit her lip, studying her daughter closely. "Do you want to tell me about your dreams now?" she asked quietly.

Phoebe lifted her head and met her mother's eyes steadily, green for green. "Yes," she whispered. "I do." She took a deep breath. "In my dreams, I'm running through this… dark place. There are… gates…" She shrugged. "I don't know where I am. These gates keep closing, and I get trapped. So I call for _him_."

"Him?" Emily tilted her head to the side.

"Yes. Him." Phoebe leaned forward, tossing her long hair back over her shoulders. "I don't know who he is, but I know that I need him. Finally, I come to this gate, and there's someone behind me. And suddenly, I reach out with my hands, and I…" She held out her hands, stretching her fingers wide. "I open the gate. Without touching it. And then I find the way out. Only, the way out is barred, gated. And for some reason, I can't move this gate like I did the other one. And that… person is behind me. And I suddenly realize it's not me they want. It's _him. _The one I need. So what do I do? Do I keep calling for him and hope he comes and rescues me, or do I let myself get caught at the gate so that they don't get him?" She sighed and leaned her head on her hands. "I keep having this dream… Almost every night."

"Oh, honey." Emily sighed and crossed her arms. "Have you… seen a movie or read a book like that?"

Phoebe smiled wryly. "No. I wondered for awhile if it was my reading that was doing this to me, that maybe I was driving myself crazy with my own imagination. Or maybe it was the stress at school… I don't know." She looked down at the table, at the wood grains she used to see faces in as a child. Then she met her mother's eyes again. "Mom, I think this thing might be real."

"Really?" Emily leaned back in her chair, eyes wide.

"I was walking in the parking lot at school, a few days before I decided to leave, and…" Phoebe closed her eyes. "This car came barreling around the corner, going way too fast for a parking lot, coming right toward me. I held out my hands and…" She opened her eyes and bit her lip. "I stopped the car. Without touching it."

Emily blinked.

"Mom, I stopped that car." Phoebe stood. "With my hands held out. Like this." She stretched out her arms. "It was like… the strength was coming from inside of me, and I pushed it out, and the car stopped." The realization of what she had just done hit her hard and she sat quickly. "I'm sorry, Mom. You probably think I'm crazy."

Emily stood. "I'm not really sure what to think, dear. You just… go shopping and have fun, okay?" She moved around the table to stand behind her daughter, bending to kiss the top of her head. "I love you, Phoebe, however strange you are."

"I love you, too," Phoebe said quietly. "Have fun with the ladies from church."

Phoebe remained at the table as her mother left the house, looking down at the faces on the table. And then she wondered… This cheerleader at the high school and the young man who had rescued her… Maybe they were strange, too, like her…

* * *

Phoebe dreamed again. This time, she was walking through a shopping mall and she realized it--her dreams about the gates had been about mall security doors! Her dark dreams had all taken place in the same shopping mall. And as she walked through this one, she suddenly realized that she was alone. 

Her cell phone rang, making her jump, and she quickly answered it. "Hello?"

"Phoebe!"

"Sasha?" She quickly recognized the voice of her friend from New York.

"Phoebe, you've got to come help me! I need you!" Sasha was sobbing.

"Where are you, Sasha?" Phoebe asked. She gasped as the lights of the nearest store suddenly went out.

"I'm in a shopping mall. In New York. Come quick!"

Phoebe hung up her phone, green eyes wide. Slowly, she turned to face the recently darkened shop. The gate had closed over the entrance, and Sasha was standing behind it, slender, pale fingers reaching through the links in the gate, her blind brown eyes filled with tears.

"Sasha!" Phoebe cried. "I'm right here!" She rushed toward her friend.

Suddenly, a hooded man grabbed Sasha from behind, pulling her back into the shadows of the store. "No!" Phoebe screamed, flinging herself against the gate. The sprinklers started going off all over the mall. And Sasha was gone.

Gasping, Phoebe stepped back from the gate, into the falling water. It swirled around her, never touching her, but soaking everything else.

"Phoebe."

She turned, water rising around her.

And he was there, the one she needed.

"It's you," she sobbed, rushing toward him. She stopped inches from his face, staring at him, shivering.

"Phoebe, you know where to find me," he told her, dark eyes steady and intense. "You have to come."

Phoebe nodded frantically. "I will." She reached out to touch his face, suddenly overcome by an urge to feel him.

He stepped back from her, hands in his pockets, tossing his head to clear his eyes of the strands of dark hair that had fallen over them.

"Come back!" she cried. "I need you!"

And the water touched her, soaking her, drowning her…

* * *

Walking along the streets of the small Texas town, Phoebe tried to forget the dream. She smiled and waved at old friends from her past, purchased a few books at the bookstore, ate a quesadilla in the square. But it was not enough. The dream still followed her. She could not shake the feeling that, somehow, blind Sasha Kent was in danger. Sitting at an umbrella-shaded table in the square, she reached into her pocketbook for her cell phone… 

… and it rang.

Quickly, she snatched it up. "Hello?"

"Hi, Phoebs. It's Sasha."

"Sasha!" Phoebe nearly fell out of her chair. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Phoebe. How are you?"

Phoebe sighed. "Great. Just… weird."

"Nothing new, then?" Sasha joked.

Phoebe laughed awkwardly. "You know me," she said vaguely. "So… What's up?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to come see me for a few days." Sasha's soft voice was tense with some strong emotion. "I have some news for you."

"What is it?" Phoebe questioned impatiently.

Sasha laughed. "You have to come see for yourself, silly."

"Sasha… You know I can't afford a trip to New York."

"I know," said Sasha steadily. "That's why I mailed you an airplane ticket and a nice supply of twenties."

Phoebe's eyebrows raised. "Sasha… I can't take your money."

"Phoebe…" Sasha giggled. "Alright, I'll tell you what's going on--because I know you'll jump at the chance to be here as soon as you hear. Phoebe--I'm getting married."

"Wow! That's awesome!" Phoebe exclaimed excitedly. "Brad proposed?"

"Brad proposed!" Sasha cried joyfully.

"That's--"

_Phoebe, you know where to find me. You have to come._

Phoebe blinked, startled to hear his voice so clearly in her mind. She took a deep breath. "Sasha, I'm coming up there. When will the tickets be here?"

"Today!" Sasha exclaimed. "I mailed them day before yesterday. I knew you'd say yes!"

Phoebe smiled and continued chatting with Sasha about the impending wedding. But as she talked, her mind strayed to the man from her dreams, the one she needed. She had a strong feeling that she would find him in New York, too.


	2. Find Him

Thanks to everyone who is reading, and especially to everyone who is reviewing!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning)_: Phoebe Agnew suspects that she has the ability of telekinesis. She has also been having dreams involving an abandoned mall, an evil stalker, and a slim, dark haired young man who can save her, the man she needs to find (guess who!). She dreams about her friend Sasha from New York City, then receives a phone call from her friend. As her friend is inviting her to stay in New York for a while, she suddenly feels as if she will find the man she keeps dreaming about in New York City...

**Chapter Two (Find Him)**

_I'm here. So where are you? _

Phoebe stood looking out the window of her hotel room, watching the streets of New York, almost expecting the man from her dreams to appear. She sighed and stepped back from the window, closing the blinds. _This is going to be harder than you thought, Phoebe._

Her cell phone rang, and she hurriedly answered it.

"So you made it to the hotel alive?" Sasha asked.

"I did," Phoebe replied, plopping on the edge of the bed.

"I still don't understand why you won't stay here with me," Sasha said. From the sound of her voice, Phoebe could tell she was pouting.

"You know me." Phoebe laid back on the bed, looking up at the fancy light fixture. "Independent." She rolled over onto her stomach. _And plus--I have another mission here._

"Well, don't be a stranger. You're coming with me to meet Brad at Michelle's tonight," Sasha insisted.

"Michelle's?"

"It's a really nice restaurant--"

"Sasha." Phoebe pressed her lips tightly together. She knew what was coming. "I'll not have you spending hundreds on me."

Sasha laughed. "My apartment. Tonight. 7:30. Be there. And be ready to eat Italian food!" And she hung up.

Phoebe sighed. She loved her friend, but Sasha had never understood Phoebe's need to do things on her own. She smiled, laying down her cell phone, getting up from the bed and crossing the room. Despite her feelings of guilt, Italian sounded good…

Italian.

Phoebe stopped walking. A name… An Italian name…

Petrelli. That was it. Why was she thinking of it?

"Phoebe, you're crazy," she told herself, looking at her reflection in the floor-length mirror. Suddenly she realized that she was not.

Nathan Petrelli was a congressman from New York. What was it her mother had said? "…_the brother of a politician from New York…They found out that he was a hero." _The one who had saved the cheerleader…

A chill ran up Phoebe's spine. This could not be a coincidence.

She thought hard about the young man from her dreams, the one she knew she needed, the one who was in danger from the man who was chasing her in the mall. He was dark-haired, dark-eyed, pale-skinned, slim… Possibly of Italian descent. She thought hard about Nathan Petrelli. Had she ever seen a picture of him? Indeed she had, in a magazine. Was there any resemblance between him and the man from her dreams? There was!

"They could be… brothers," she whispered to her reflection. It only took her a moment to decide what to do.

* * *

"I really appreciate this, Sasha," Phoebe said, fingers flying over the keyboard of her friend's old computer. The newer, Braille model was sitting beside it, pushed aside for the older one. 

"No problem, Phoebs." Sasha reached behind herself to feel for the seat of the recliner across the room from her friend. "I'm just glad you're letting me help you with something."

"This means I'm paying for my own meal tonight," Phoebe remarked with a crooked grin.

Sasha could not see the grin, but she could hear it. "Phoebe!" she cried with mock anguish. She sniffed, lifting her chin, pale brown eyes unseeing, but twinkling. "In that case, you'll have to let me help you with that search of yours." She stood and carefully crossed the room.

Phoebe glanced over her shoulder at her friend. "I don't know, Sasha. You might think I'm crazy."

Sasha laid a hand on the other girl's shoulder. She was quiet for a moment, her delicate features pinched in concentration. "Hmm… You're looking for something… someone."

Phoebe's green eyes widened. "How do you know?"

Sasha smiled slowly, brushing her wavy, light brown hair back from her shoulders with petite hands. "I've heard that some blind people acquire extra skills once they lose their sight." She shrugged. "MaybeI'm one of them."

"That's--that's awesome." Phoebe turned back to the computer screen, wondering whether or not to tell her friend about her own strange abilities. "Ah! I've found it!"

"What?" asked Sasha. With her head tilted to the side, she looked like an exquisite little bird.

"I've found the address I was searching for," Phoebe explained. "This is great." She sat back in the desk chair, crossing her arms.

"But you're not looking for an address," Sasha said quietly. "You're looking for a person."

Phoebe glanced sharply at the blind girl. "How do you know that, Sasha?"

Sasha shrugged again and returned to the recliner. "Tell me who you're looking for."

Phoebe scribbled down the address on a note card. "His name is Peter Petrelli. His brother is one of your congressmen."

"Uhm, Phoebe--"

"His address isn't on here, but I found his brother's." Phoebe stood, cramming the card into her jeans pocket. "I'll just go ask Congressman Petrelli where Peter is. His place is right down the road from my hotel."

"Phoebe, Peter Petrelli disappeared a couple of weeks ago," Sasha said quietly. She frowned. "And why are you looking for him, anyway?"

"He… disappeared?" Phoebe swallowed, suddenly overcome by a feeling of profound loss, as if someone she had known all her life was gone.

"Yes. That was a weird night. Lots of bad things happened in this city." Sasha's frown deepened. "Why do you want to find Peter Petrelli? What's going on, Phoebe?"

"I just…" Phoebe bit her lip and closed her eyes, feeling lost. "I need to see him. There's something I think he can explain to me. It's weird. I don't know if you'd believe me if I told you."

Sasha crossed her slender arms. "Well you seemed to take it rather well when I told you how I can sense things. Is that why, Phoebe? Has something happened to you, too?"

"Sasha, I've been having dreams--bad dreams. And in the dreams, I know I have to find this Peter Petrelli. There's someone chasing me, chasing you…" She winced, remembering the shadowed dream figure snatching Sasha back from the gate in the mall. "I think he's not even after us. He's after Peter."

"Peter? So you're on a first name basis with this man you've only dreamed about?" Sasha raised one delicate brow.

"Sasha, I swear to you--I've seen him." She thought for a moment. "Brad's involved in politics, so I'm sure he's seen Nathan Petrelli. So did you ever see Peter--or a picture of him--before you… well, you know."

Sasha nodded slowly. "Yes. I remember what he looks like."

"Well, let me describe him to you, and you tell me if I've seen him or not," Phoebe suggested.

"Alright. Fair enough."

"He's handsome. He's slim, has dark hair, big brown eyes, a crooked mouth. His face is very expressive, and he has a nice voice. His hair tends to fall in his eyes, and--"

"Alright." Sasha held up a hand, blind eyes wide. "I believe you. You've seen Peter Petrelli. Maybe you saw him somewhere else before you dreamed about him."

"Where would I have seen him?" Phoebe exclaimed.

Sasha's delicate features wore a troubled look. "In your dreams," she admitted.

"Sasha, I _have _to go talk to his brother," Phoebe insisted. "Maybe he knows where Peter is, or at least has an idea."

"I think that's a good plan." Sasha nodded. Then she smiled. "But you're not leaving this house until you hook my new computer back up."

* * *

Phoebe stared up at the Petrelli mansion, daunted. Who was she compared to these people? Nothing. A nobody. She was suddenly sure that she would not be allowed to enter the huge house… 

"Miss? Can I help you?"

Phoebe looked around, green eyes soon settling on an elderly black man trimming the bushes. "Uhm, I was just… looking." She smiled weakly. "So… You work for the Petrellis?"

"I do." The old man smiled at her. "And you are?"

"Phoebe. Phoebe Agnew." She held out a hand to shake the man's, then laughed when she realized she was holding out a paper bag. "Sorry." She quickly shoved the bag under her arm and shook the man's hand.

"Nice to meet you, Phoebe," he said. "I'm Wyatt." He nodded toward the white paper bag. "If you don't mind me asking, what have you got there?"

"It's a cheeseburger, actually," Phoebe explained. "I bought it for lunch. But…" She glanced up at the mansion. "I don't think I'm hungry now."

"Smells mighty good," Wyatt said.

"Here." Phoebe once again held out the bag. "Do you want it?"

Wyatt laughed. "I don't think I could take it from you. That wouldn't be--"

"No, really," Phoebe insisted. "I hope you like pickles."

Wyatt grinned. "Love 'em." He took the bag. "You're a generous one, Phoebe." His smile suddenly turned sad. "Remind me of someone I used to know."

"Really?" Phoebe glanced nervously up at the doors of the mansion. She could hear movement from within the house. "Well, uhm… I'd better be going. I'm meeting a friend of mine and her fiancé for dinner."

"Have fun, Phoebe," said Wyatt with a nod. He raised an eyebrow. "If you walk this way again, stop by and talk to me. Now that he's gone, I don't get talked to much."

Phoebe smiled at the older man. "I'll talk to you, Wyatt. And bring you cheeseburgers." Her smile faded as she heard the doors of the mansion swing open. "Well, see you later!" And with that, she took off running down the sidewalk, forgetting to wonder who "he" was.

Hedge clippers in one hand, fast food bag in the other, Wyatt stood watching her.

"Who was that, Wyatt?"

The old man looked up at the man coming down the steps, eyes wide. "A very nice young lady, sir. She gave me a cheeseburger, and I don't even know her."

"That's sounds like something--" The younger man shook his head. "Have a good day, Wyatt." He kept walking.

* * *

"If you don't mind me asking, Phoebe, what are you doing walking by this house everyday?" Wyatt asked between bites of cheeseburger. 

"What do you mean?" Phoebe asked, mouth full of chicken sandwich.

"I mean the only reason you walk down this street is to walk by this mansion." Wyatt's dark eyes were steady. "First time I saw you here, three days ago, I thought you might be a reporter or something."

"Oh no! I'm not!" Phoebe swallowed. "I just…" She sighed.

"What's the matter, girl?" Wyatt asked, peering closely at her.

"I'm trying to get up my courage," she told him quietly.

"To do what?" he asked, one brow raised.

"I need to speak with the congressman," Phoebe said, brushing a strand of reddish blond hair behind her ear.

"About what?" Wyatt asked.

"It's complicated." Phoebe stuffed her sandwich wrapper in the paper bag and reached out for Wyatt's. As she crumpled up the trash, she met his eyes. "It's about Peter."

Wyatt stared at her. "Peter."

"Yes," Phoebe whispered.

Wyatt took a step closer to her, wagging one big finger in her face. "If you know where he is and haven't told me--"  
Phoebe shook her head violently. "I have no _clue _where he is. But I need to find out!"

Wyatt stepped back from her, his heavy features grave. "Come with me, Phoebe." He started up the steps to the mansion.

"Where are we going?" Phoebe exclaimed.

"To speak with Mr. Petrelli. Now hand me that bag and follow me."

"I can't!" Phoebe cried, panicking. "He'll think I'm crazy! He won't talk to me!"

"Phoebe." Wyatt turned to look at her, eyes narrowed. "This is about Peter. Peter's special. Don't you know that?"

Phoebe looked down at her booted feet. "Yes."

"Then come on. And for heaven's sake, hand me that bag!"

Phoebe walked slowly up the steps, her insides knotting. She handed the bag to Wyatt and met his eyes. "What are you going to tell him?"

"That you need to speak to him about his brother."

"And what am _I_ going to say?"

They stopped at the door, and Wyatt turned to her. "Now that one's up to you, Miss Agnew." He opened the door.

Phoebe took a deep breath and followed him into the exquisitely decorated foyer.

"This way, Miss Agnew," Wyatt said, suddenly formal. He handed off the bag of trash to a woman standing in the hall, striding with purpose toward the door at the end.

Phoebe followed with her hands clenched at her sides, biting her lip. This was insane, she decided. It should not be happening.

Then Wyatt stepped aside, and Phoebe was face to face with Congressman Nathan Petrelli.

"Uhm, hello," she said awkwardly, wishing that her hair was not in such a mess. She was surely making a bad impression. _And I probably have pickles stuck between my teeth…_

"Wyatt says you're here about my brother," the politician said, his expression impassive.

"I am," said Phoebe. She thought frantically for something more to say.

"Come with me," said Nathan Petrelli, brushing past her.

Phoebe glanced at Wyatt.

"GO!" he mouthed, nodding toward the younger man.

Phoebe nodded, then hurried to catch up with Petrelli, wincing at the loud sound of her heeled boots tapping against the expensive floors.

Petrelli led her into a vast living room, closing the doors behind her. He moved to stand by the fireplace, crossing his arms and staring down into the flames. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire. Then, the congressman drew in a ragged breath and turned to Phoebe. "Where is he?"

Phoebe winced again. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I was hoping you could tell me, Mr.--I mean Congressman--"

"You mean Nathan." He turned once again to the fire. "Why are you looking for my brother? How do you know him?"

"I don't really know him." Phoebe took a step further into the room. "It's just that--" Her eyes were caught by a picture on the mantle, a picture of both Petrelli brothers. "Oh!" She gasped, one hand flying to her mouth.

"What is it?" Nathan asked, turning once again to her.

"There he is…" She pointed to the picture. "Peter." Seeing his face affected her strongly, and she had to fight to keep her composure.

"Yes." Nathan cleared his throat. Perhaps he was fighting himself, too…

They were both quiet for a moment.

"So… You don't know where he is, either?" Phoebe finally asked, feeling utterly awkward.

"No." Nathan shook his head. "And if you don't…" He shook his head again.

She walked closer to him, staring at the picture on the mantle. "So… I was right."

Nathan frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

"I was right about how he looks," Phoebe said, fighting not to flinch from his gaze. "You see, I've never met your brother, but I've seen him."

"From a distance?" Nathan's voice sounded as if _it _were coming from a distance.

"Not really." Phoebe shook her head. "I'm sorry… I should go." She turned and started walking toward the door, praying that she would be able to find her way out of this house.

"Wait."

She stopped, not sure what to expect.

"How did you see Peter if you never met him, yet you've never seen him from a distance?" Nathan asked.

Phoebe turned to face him. "I--I saw him in a dream." She blushed as Nathan's eyes widened. "I know I must sound crazy--"

"No." He shook his head. "You don't." He took a few steps toward her, hands on his hips. "You sound like Peter."

Phoebe blinked. "Like Peter?"

"He had these dreams…" Nathan ran a hand down his face, laughing grimly. "He was always telling me about these dreams, where he could…fly…"

"Did they come true?" Phoebe asked quietly. "Because I think mine might."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Yes. They came true."

Phoebe drew in a deep breath. "Then I have to find him."

Nathan held out his hand. "I'll help you."

Phoebe smiled weakly and shook his hand. "Good." She released his hand and stood there awkwardly. "So… I'm going back to my hotel. Just… let me know what you find out, and I'll let you know what I find out."

"Where are you going to look first?" Nathan asked.

Phoebe smiled slowly. "My dreams."


	3. Together At Last

Thanks again to my beloved reviewers. You rock my sock drawer! And all those other cliches. Share the Heroes love!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Phoebe Agnew, telekinetic, traveled to New York City. Once there, a phone conversation with her friend Sasha gave her a clue to finding the man from her dreams. She decides that she is looking for Peter Petrelli and goes to ask his brother Nathan about his whereabouts. She chickens out, but is forced by Wyatt the gardener to face Nathan Petrelli. After Nathan hears that Phoebe has seen Peter in a dream, he tells her he will help her. She goes back to the hotel to dream...

_Weird Disclaimer: _The first sixteen chapters were written before I watched the Season Two finale and was traumatized. Just to let you know, my story takes a very different path from the actual Season Two.

**Chapter Three (Together At Last)**

Phoebe closed her eyes. The moon was shining.

The soothing hum of the hotel air conditioner relaxed her mind, and the softness of the feather pillow beneath her head soothed her body. The confidence that she was about to find Peter Petrelli soothed her heart.

And so she dreamed.

She dreamed she was walking in the darkened mall once again, searching frantically for the man she knew she needed. She soon found him standing by a fountain, one hand touching the falling water, dark eyes distant.

"Peter!" Phoebe cried, stopping her frantic run a few feet away from him.

He looked up and smiled slowly. "Phoebe!" he called. "You know my name!"

She nodded, panting. "I do."

"That's good," he said, jogging to stand close to her. He grinned crookedly. "For some reason I've always known yours."

"Peter, where are you?" she asked.

He raised one dark brow. "Right here in front of you."

"I mean, where are you out of this dream world?" Phoebe amended.

"Nearby." He glanced over his shoulder, looking suddenly worried. "Don't try to find me." He turned to her once again. "I'll find you."

"I'm at the Holiday Inn," Phoebe told him excitedly.

Peter grinned. "There's more than one Holiday Inn in New York, Phoebe."

"I'm at the one nearest your brother's house," Phoebe explained laughingly.

Peter's dark eyes were suddenly very young. "My brother… How is he?"

Phoebe pressed her lips together, trying to decide what to tell him. "Sad," she said finally. "He misses you."

"Does he know that you've spoken to me?" Peter asked.

"Yes. I told him." Phoebe smiled. "I thought he would say I sounded crazy, but…" She looked down, biting her lip. "He said I sounded like you."

"I miss him," Peter said quietly.

"Peter…" Phoebe looked up, studying the handsome face closely. "What happened? Why did you disappear? Why these dreams?"  
"Phoebe--" He took a step closer to her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

Suddenly, the sprinklers began to go off all over the mall.

"He's here," said Peter hoarsely. "You need to wake up."

"That man who stays in the shadows?"

"Yes. Sylar. Wake up _now_, Phoebe!"

"It's just a dream. He can't--"

Peter shook her gently. "Listen to me! Wake up! Get out of here!"

"What about you!?" she exclaimed.

"I won't wake up until you do," Peter insisted stubbornly. "Now do it before he finds us."

Phoebe nodded. "See you in the real world, Peter."

He gave her a quick nod, glancing over his shoulder.

She closed her eyes, squeezed them tightly shut, willing herself out of the dream, willing her consciousness to spring back to life.

And she woke up, gasping and sitting up straight in bed. She still felt cold and wet, as if the sprinklers were still pouring water down on her. Drawing the covers up to her chin, she laid back down, shivering--and wishing she could know for sure that Peter Petrelli had made it out of the dream without being caught by this Sylar. _What could happen in a dream, anyway? _she wondered. _Could Sylar hurt me? Or Peter? _

_This is crazy. _She closed her eyes and hoped not to dream.

Phoebe looked at herself in the mirror, wondering why she still looked the same. All of this madness should have changed her, she was sure. But it had not. She still looked the same--tall, pale, slim, with round, innocent green eyes, eyes that should have changed.

She straightened the sleeves of her deep blue shirt and walked out of the hotel room bathroom, squinting in the sunlight that poured through the blinds. She stood for a moment with her eyes closed, feeling suddenly as if she were standing on the edge of destiny…

Then there was a knock at her door.

Phoebe took a deep breath and walked to the door, peering through the peephole. Big, dark eyes met hers, as if they could see her through the door. She smiled. He was here. Quickly, she undid the chain lock and flung open the door.

"Hi." Peter Petrelli smiled at her.

"Hi," she replied breathlessly.

He glanced behind her. "Can I come in?"

"Yes. You--you can." For a moment, she just stood there, staring at him.

He laughed awkwardly, hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Are you sure about that?"

"Oh! Sorry!" Phoebe stepped aside, blushing furiously. She shut the door behind him as he entered. "So… You found me."

"And _you _found _me_," he replied.

"Yes." She clasped her hands in front of her, looking down at her shoes.

"So, what can you do?" Peter asked her. "I mean, what… talent do you have?"

"I'm not sure yet," Phoebe said, meeting his eyes. She liked what she saw there, a mixture of deep feelings and formidable control. "I think--I think I can move things with my mind. Telekinesis. Or something."

"And why were you trying so hard to find me?" Peter asked then.

Phoebe bit her lip. "Well… I don't know. I just… feel like I need you." She peered closely at him. "Where have you been?"

His eyes closed abruptly to her, and he turned from her to face the window, a dark silhouette against the late morning sun. "I don't know," he said quietly.

Phoebe frowned. "What happened, Peter?"

He turned to face her, crossing his arms, smiling crookedly. "We saved the world."

"Saved the world…" Phoebe smiled back at him. "You're a real hero, you know that? My mom told me about how you saved that cheerleader at Union Wells."

Peter's smile widened. "That's how I saved the world."

"Ah." _This is crazy._

"I think we're going to have to save it again," he told her. "That must be why we're having these dreams." He looked down. "That must be why I came back."

Phoebe itched with curiosity, but refrained from drilling him about his previous whereabouts. "So… How do you--_we_--do it this time?"

Peter shrugged, looking at her again, eyes wide. "I don't know." Then his crooked mouth quirked in a smile. "But I'm glad I found you."

Phoebe felt warm in the light of his smile. "Yes. I'm glad you did, too." This was her destiny, she knew now--to save the world alongside Peter Petrelli.

He moved closer to her, hands in his pockets, dark eyes full of that restless intensity that she was coming to recognize as such an important part of who he was. "This… feels right, doesn't it?" he said quietly. "Like we're _supposed _to be here."

Phoebe nodded. "It does feel right."

Peter suddenly reached out and took one of her hands, squeezing it warmly. Then he turned to the window once again, eyes distant.

Phoebe stared at his handsome profile, wondering. "Peter, where are we supposed to go? What are we supposed to do?"

He turned to smile wryly at her, running his thumb across the edge of her hand. "I really don't know. I'd like…" He sighed. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go speak to Nathan, to let him know I'm alright. And maybe _he'll _have some ideas."

A thought suddenly came to Phoebe. "And what about the cheerleader? The one you saved?"

Peter's eyes widened. "Claire…"

"Is she… like us?" Phoebe asked.

Peter nodded. "Yeah. She's… special."

"Maybe she could help us," Phoebe suggested. She studied his face closely. "Are there others?"

"Yes, but I don't know where they are," Peter said. He winced. "I've been… sort of 'out of it' for a while now."

_Yes. Where _were _you? _Phoebe bit her lip. "Maybe we could find them." She brightened. "I think my friend Sasha has some sort of… skill. She--she touched me the other day and knew exactly what I was feeling. I think she can use her hands to sense things."

"Good." Peter squeezed her hand. "We'll talk to her, too." He hesitated, and Phoebe could tell that there was something he wanted desperately to do or say.

"Why don't we go see your brother now?" she suggested, hoping she had guessed correctly what he wanted.

"Yeah. Let's do that," he said, trying to sound casual. He smiled at her, pressing her hand between both of his, then released her, striding purposefully toward the door.

Phoebe grinned, brushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear. _Good guess, Phoebe. _She followed him quickly, glad to escape the sudden empty cold that assaulted her when he walked away.

As they walked along the sidewalk toward the Petrelli mansion, Phoebe watched Peter carefully. "Peter, what is it?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, glancing quickly at her. There was a haunted look to his eyes, a paleness to his face.

"You seem upset about something," Phoebe said. She was almost having to run to keep up with him. "Like--like you're about to explode or something."

Peter abruptly stopped walking and turned to face her, dark eyes full of some strange pain. "How much do you know?" he asked hoarsely, grabbing her upper arms.

Phoebe's eyes widened. "Nothing!" she exclaimed. "Peter, what are you talking about!?"

"I'm sorry. I--" He moved his hands gently to her shoulders, closing her eyes. "I just…" He sighed heavily.

"What's wrong?" Phoebe asked. It upset her to see him so upset.

"I'm fine," he said quietly, eyes still closed, hands still on her shoulders.

Phoebe lifted her hands to touch his arms gently. "Are you sure?" she asked quietly.

He opened his eyes and looked steadily at her. "No."

"I didn't think so," said Phoebe. "What happened, Peter?"

"I nearly… I nearly did something terrible," he told her, voice and eyes intense. "Something really bad. Lots of people would have died. And I would have been responsible. I wouldn't have meant to do it, but…"

"But you didn't do it," Phoebe said softly.

"No. Thanks to Nathan… and Claire… I just--" He took a deep breath, and turned from her, releasing her, breathing shakily.

"Peter, it's alright." Phoebe reached out impulsively to touch his back, patting it awkwardly.

"What if it happens again?" Peter asked, crossing his arms and looking up at the sky.

Phoebe bit her lip, not sure what to say, not even sure what he was talking about. What had happened? What did he do? "I don't know," she answered honestly. "But… I'll be here. I'll help you." She smiled softly. "You helped me already. You showed me what it is I'm supposed to do."

Peter turned to look at her, intense eyes narrowed on her. "You mean that? All of it?"

She nodded. "Of course." She looked down, blushing lightly, then looked back up to meet his eyes. "I needed you, Peter Petrelli. And you came. You rescued me from being lost and unsure." She grinned. "You're my hero."

"You mean that, too?" he asked, lips twitching.

"Yes I do," Phoebe replied, her voice steady despite the strange churning of her insides.

Pressing his lips together in a tight smile, Peter reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. He looked as though he was keeping something inside that he desperately wanted to let out. "Thanks, Phoebe. That means a lot to me."

She bit her lip and nodded, feeling suddenly shy. "You're welcome, Peter."

"Well come on." He continued walking, motioning for her to follow. "Let's go find Nathan."

Together they moved forward toward the place where they hoped to find help.

Wyatt looked up from his work, squinting in the morning sunlight. Two people were walking toward the mansion, a slim young man and a long-haired young woman, both silhouettes familiar. Then Wyatt smiled brightly. Peter and Phoebe. What a pair they made! If he had any money to bet, he would bet it all that they were both preparing to do something that thoroughly terrified them, something for the good of mankind.

"Wyatt!" Phoebe called, waving. "He found me!"

Wyatt found that statement a bit strange. Hadn't Phoebe been looking for Peter? Then how had _Peter_ found _Phoebe_?

"He found you?" Wyatt asked as the pair neared him. He looked from one eager young face to the other, finally settling his dark eyes on the face of Peter Petrelli. "How did you manage that, Peter?"

Peter shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I don't know. I just… reached out and she was there."

"Reached out…"

"Peter?"

Peter, Phoebe, and Wyatt all turned to look up at the doors of the Petrelli mansion. There stood Nathan Petrelli, staring down at them, Peter in particular, with wide eyes.

"Nathan!" Peter exclaimed.

"You're alive," said Nathan, coming slowly down the steps.

"I am," said Peter, looking even more uncomfortable.

Phoebe took a step backward, nearly tripping over her own feet as the brothers stood face to face at the bottom of the stairs.

"You're back," said Nathan hoarsely.

Peter nodded, swallowing hard.

Then suddenly, they were in each other's arms, hugging tightly.

Feeling completely out of place, Phoebe turned, preparing to bolt down the sidewalk, straight back to her hotel. She would have, but a firm, black hand closed around her arm.

"Stay," Wyatt whispered to her.

"They don't need me anymore," Phoebe replied quietly, eyeing the embracing brothers. "Maybe this was what I was supposed to do. Maybe I'm done here." She was tempted to jerk her arm out of his grasp, then stopped, eyes wide. Wyatt's strength was surprising for a man of his age…

The Petrelli brothers finally broke apart, turning awkwardly to face Phoebe and Wyatt. Phoebe gave them a weak smile, then gasped as Wyatt shoved her in front of him.

"You boys have this young lady to thank for bringing you back together," the older man insisted.

"Thank-you…ah…" Nathan started.

"Phoebe," she supplied timidly.

"Thank-you, Phoebe," said Nathan politely.

Peter smiled at her warmly. "Yeah, thanks so much." He took a step closer to her, reaching out to take her hand. Then he just stood there, smiling crookedly at her.

"You're--you're welcome," Phoebe told them both, flashing Nathan a quick smile, then meeting Peter's steady gaze.

Then Nathan shattered the pleasant peace. "Peter… Where _were_ you?"

_Uh-oh_, Phoebe thought, wincing.

Peter's eyes stayed on hers, darkening. "Let's discuss that later, Nathan. Right now what we need to do is…" He glanced at Wyatt over Phoebe's shoulder.

Wyatt gave him a slight bow, then walked off, winking at Phoebe over his shoulder as he went.

Peter turned to face Nathan, still clinging to Phoebe's hand. "What we need to do now is find Sylar," he finished quietly.

Nathan frowned. "Sylar? He's dead, isn't he?"

Peter shook his head, also frowning. "We don't know that for sure."

Nathan stood akimbo, pressing his lips tightly together. "Peter… Why don't we just leave well enough alone? He hasn't bothered anyone for weeks. He's probably not even still alive. But _we're _alive. That's what matters." He held out a hand to his brother. "Why don't you and your friend come inside and get something to eat, something to drink. Then we can talk about going back to our normal lives."

Peter shook his head. "No, Nathan. That doesn't work. I dreamed Sylar was _alive_."

"The stress of the past few--"

"No, Nathan! Sylar's out there! I know it!" He pulled Phoebe forward. "She's seen him in her dreams, too. My dreams, I mean. She was there." He turned to Phoebe. "Tell him, Phoebe."

Phoebe swallowed, looking at Peter, then Nathan. "Uhm… Yes," she said. "I saw this… Sylar in my dreams." She blinked. "In Peter's dreams. Wherever I was." She looked down at her shoes, biting her lip and feeling ridiculous.

"Can we--can we do this later, Peter?" Nathan asked, sounding agitated. "Right now, I'm just happy we're both alive."

Peter was quiet for a moment.

Phoebe raised her head and looked at him, wondering what he was going to do. He tossed her a questioning look, and she shrugged, feeling completely inadequate to advise him.

"Okay, Nathan." Peter sighed. "Okay. But…" He took a deep, unsteady breath. "After we get things settled, we've got to find out what happened to Sylar."

_And _I _want to find out what happened to you, what started all this, _Phoebe thought.


	4. A Clue in a Coffee Shop

Another special thanks to my readers. And exclusively for my reviewers, here's a smiley :).

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning)_: Phoebe dreamed of Peter once again. This time, he told her he would come find her, and he did. After discussing the events leading to their meeting, they decided to talk to Nathan--particularly about Peter's suspicions about Sylar being alive. They met up with Nathan at the Petrelli mansion, and the Petrelli brothers were reunited. Then they all went inside to talk...

**Chapter Four (A Clue in a Coffee Shop)**

Phoebe realized that it was time for her to go. Both Peter and Nathan were continually editing details of their story because she was around, she knew. She stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust from her jeans. There was no dust in this house. "Uhm… I think I'll give you guys some… alone time," she said quietly. "I think I'll just head back to my hotel."

"Hey, why don't you wait for me?" Peter suggested. "I don't want you walking back by yourself. Not with Sylar still out there."

"Peter, you don't have to smother her," said Nathan. "She'll be fine."

"We don't _know_ that, Nathan."

"Look, I'll just wait at the little coffee shop down the street, how 'bout it?" Phoebe compromised. She gave Peter an encouraging smile. "That okay with you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you there."

And so Phoebe escaped.

* * *

"Who _is _that girl, Peter?" Nathan asked his brother, frowning. 

"She's Phoebe," Peter said with a shrug.

"Yes, she's Phoebe. I _know_ that." Nathan crossed his arms. "Where did she _come_ from?"

Peter shook his head. "I don't know. I just… started dreaming about her when I was…" He looked down at his hands. "I couldn't find anyone for so long, and then she was there." He lifted his head and met his brother's eyes. "In my dreams. She's one of us, Nathan."

"What can she do?" Nathan asked.

"Telekinesis, I think," said Peter. "I haven't seen her do it yet."

"So you don't know for sure that she can even do anything," Nathan remarked wryly.

"No, no. I think she can," Peter insisted. He sighed. "We've got to find Sylar. And we've got to stop him."

"Peter, Hiro killed him," said Nathan.

"Yeah? So where's the body?"

They were quiet for a moment, frowning at each other.

"You have a point," said Nathan quietly.

"You know I do," said Peter. He looked around the big room, one eyebrow raised. "Where's Mom?"

"She's in Paris."

"She went without Claire?"

Nathan looked away from his brother. "Yes… Without Claire," he said quietly.

Peter leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him. "Nathan… Where's Claire?"

Nathan looked at his brother then, eyes closed to him. "She went back…" He swallowed. "With her family."

Peter sighed, relieved. He was sure Noah Bennet could take care of his adopted daughter. But it was a bittersweet relief. "I'll miss her," Peter said quietly.

Nathan was silent.

"Do you--do you know about any of the others?" Peter asked quickly.

Nathan shrugged. "Just rumors. Bits and pieces."

"We have to find them, Nathan," Peter insisted. "You know what Sylar's like. We have to work together."

"Peter, I've got a lot to think about now that I'm a congressman," Nathan started.

Peter held up a hand. "What about the fate of the people you serve? What about that, Nathan? You know what Sylar would do to them. We have to stop him!"

Nathan looked away from Peter, working his jaw.

Peter stood, moving closer to his brother. "Come on, Nathan. You've got to help us. We've got to find the others."

Nathan was quiet for a moment, looking away from Peter. Then he looked up, meeting his brother's wide eyes. "Hiro Nakamura is still here. He's still in New York."

* * *

_Six dollars for a cup of coffee! That's messed up! _Phoebe stared at the menu with traumatized eyes. She should have known that a coffee shop on this side of town would be so expensive. Less than half a mile away from the Petrelli mansion, it was bound to be outrageous… 

"Are you ready to order, ma'am?" asked the perfect girl behind the counter.

Phoebe cleared her throat. "Uhm… sure. I'd just like a caramel latte, if you don't mind."

"Just have a seat, and I'll have someone bring that to you," the clerk told her.

"Thanks," said Phoebe. She walked slowly to a seat in the corner of the shop, by the window, so she could see Peter when he arrived. She sat quietly, leaning her chin in her hand, eyes distant, thinking of how much her life had changed since she had come home from college…

"Excuse me."

Phoebe glanced up. A smile brightened her face as she looked at the most adorable little Asian man she had ever seen. "Hello," she said, grinning.

"Hello. My name is Hiro Nakamura."

"My name is Phoebe Agnew," Phoebe said, wondering why this little fellow was looking at her with such curiosity.

Hiro pushed his glasses up on his nose, staring at her. "May I sit down?" he asked.

"Sure." Phoebe reached under the table with one long leg and kicked out a chair. "Take a seat."

Hiro sat quickly, looking around the coffee shop with worry in his eyes. "Are you… alone here, Phoebe Agnew?" he asked quietly.

"Yes." Phoebe frowned. Something odd was going on here… "I'm waiting for someone."

Hiro glanced sharply at her. "Who are you waiting for?"

Phoebe hesitated.

"You wait for Peter Petrelli?"

Phoebe blinked and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Yes… How did you know?"

"I'm special," Hiro proclaimed grandly.

"Like Peter?" Phoebe whispered. "Like me?"

"Yes," said Hiro quietly. He glanced around the shop again.

"What is it?" Phoebe asked, suddenly nervous.

"I'm keeping my eyes opened," said Hiro, widening his eyes dramatically. "I need to be on watch for…" He looked at her, frowning. "For a very bad man. A villain."

"A villain?" A chill ran up Phoebe's spine. "You mean…" She set her elbows back on the table, leaning forward. "You mean… Sylar?"

"Yes," Hiro whispered. "I go to future. I see him come here. I see you with Peter Petrelli. I see cheerleader. I see Flying Man."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow. "Flying Man?"

"Yes. Brother of Peter Petrelli."

"Nathan?" Phoebe asked in a whisper. "He flies?"

Hiro nodded quickly.

"Wow." Phoebe shook her head. "And you… You go to the future?"

"Yes. I bend space and time," Hiro said proudly. "Peter Petrelli is…" He frowned. "How you say?" He tapped his forehead furiously. "He… uses power of others."

"Uses power of others…" Phoebe repeated dazedly.

"And you?" Hiro leaned forward, eyes full of curiosity behind his glasses. "What you do?"

"Well, I…" Phoebe bit her lip. "Watch this." She took a napkin out of the dispenser on the table and laid it on the smooth surface. Then she concentrated hard on it, willing it to move. The napkin slowly rose from the table and drifted through the air toward Hiro. The little Asian man held out his hand, and Phoebe relinquished control. The napkin dropped lightly into Hiro's hand.

Hiro laughed. "Very good, Phoebe Agnew!" he exclaimed, setting the napkin down on the table.

"You do magic tricks?" asked an excited voice from beside them.

Hiro and Phoebe looked up at the waitress, wide-eyed. Hiro recovered first. "Yes. She very good magician," he proclaimed grandly, pointing to Phoebe.

"That's awesome," said the waitress, setting Phoebe's latte on the table before her. "That'll be $4.59."

Groaning mentally, Phoebe paid the waitress and turned her attention back to Hiro. "So… You saw Sylar and me and Peter and Nathan and a cheerleader in this coffee shop in the future? What--what happened?"

"Very bad things happen," said Hiro sadly. "We must stop the villain."

"I'm with you," said Phoebe, saluting him with her coffee cup. She took a slow sip of the warm, frothy liquid. "So… You were there when… everything happened? The first time… Sylar came around?" she asked vaguely, hoping to get more information out of this little man than she had out of the Petrelli brothers.

"Yes. It was very bad time. He kill many people." Hiro was quiet for a moment, and Phoebe almost wished she had not asked, so sad was the look in his eyes. Then he continued, "Someone was going to… explode in New York City. Boom! Sylar, he want it to happen. But we stop him. I took my sword, and I--" Hiro stood and demonstrated stabbing someone, yelling something in Japanese.

The other clients of the coffee shop turned and looked.

"Sorry! Very sorry!" said Hiro. He quickly sat back down, speaking more quietly. "Sylar went away. But he threw me away, too. Just before I hit wall, I go to future." He sighed. "When I come back, I find out what happen from friends, from others like us. Your friend, your Peter Petrelli…" He leaned forward, whispering. "He was bomb."

"Peter?" Phoebe frowned. Then she remembered his reaction when she had teasingly said he looked like he was going to explode… "Oh."

"Flying Man--Nathan Petrelli--he fly his brother up into air. Whoosh!" Hiro motioned toward the ceiling with his hand. "So people in city not get hurt."

"But… How did they survive? Peter and Nathan?" Phoebe asked.

"Peter Petrelli use cheerleader's power--heal himself." Hiro shrugged. "Somehow, Flying Man get away in time."

"Ah…" Phoebe leaned back in her seat. "Well that's--"

The door to the coffee shop burst open, and a tall man in a business suit strode in, his footsteps weaving.

"Uh-oh," said Hiro. "This man trouble."

Phoebe nodded nervously. The man was obviously drunk as he swayed toward the counter. She and Hiro watched anxiously as the man leaned across the counter, motioning for the clerk.

"Give me something. Anything!" he slurred.

"Sir, I need to--"

"Just get me a coffee," he ordered, cursing.

The clerk hurried to obey, fear plain on her face.

The drunken man spun away from the counter to face the clientele of the coffee shop. His face was unshaven, his eyes bloodshot. "Someone took her away!" he shouted. "Don't you understand!? He took her away!" With that, he turned back to the counter, slamming his fist down on top of it.

Phoebe and Hiro jumped.

Then, abruptly, the man turned to face them. "Why can't I do it, too? Take people away?" He began weaving toward Phoebe and Hiro, his face ravaged by anger and sorrow.

"Hiro--"  
"It's okay, Phoebe Agnew," said Hiro, standing and lifting his chin. "I handle this."

The drunken man had reached the table. He towered over little Hiro, glaring down at him. "Look, you little punk, he took my daughter. He killed her. Why can't I do the same thing? If he can get away with it, why can't I?"

"You no want to do this!" Hiro insisted. "You not a very bad man!"

"Oh, really?" The big man reached out to grab hold of Hiro.

And suddenly, he was on the floor, with Phoebe's latte steaming on the front of his suit. Phoebe blinked. How on earth had that happened so fast?

The man sat stunned for a moment, looking up at Hiro with huge, reddened eyes. Then, suddenly, he burst into sobs. "He took her… She's dead… My child… My Lara…"

That was when two police officers burst in the door, surrounding the unruly man quickly.

Hiro and Phoebe stood there watching as they dragged him away. Just before they got him out the door, he let out a sob that shook the two heroes. "He cut off her head! The top of her head! Why? Why my girl!?"

Then the door shut with a jangle of bells.

"Phoebe…" Hiro took her arm and pulled her back to the table. "That man… His daughter…" He shook his head. "Only Sylar can kill people that way…"

Phoebe trembled. "Oh… Oh!"

"We have to find out where he killed her!" Hiro exclaimed. "Come on!" He started toward the door, tugging on Phoebe's arm.

"Wait!" she exclaimed. "We have to wait for Peter."

Hiro's face brightened. "Ah! Ah yes! Peter Petrelli will help us. He is a hero!" Then he frowned, watching as one of the waitresses mopped latte off the tiled floor. "Very sorry…" He motioned to the floor. "Your coffee…"

Phoebe peered down at him. "You did that?"

Hiro smiled proudly. "I bend space and time."

"Whoa…"

"Phoebe!" Peter Petrelli rushed into the coffeeshop. "Phoebe! Are you okay!? I saw the--" Then his eyes widened. "Hiro!?"

"Peter Petrelli!" Hiro waved to his friend.

Peter hurried to stand with Hiro and Phoebe. "What's going on!?"

"There was--there was a man," said Phoebe shakily. "He was drunk. He was looking for a fight, I think. He tried--he came toward us, and Hiro--" With wide eyes, she pointed at the little Asian man. "Hiro handled him."

Hiro bowed.

Phoebe grasped Peter's arm. "Peter… We think Sylar killed his daughter."

"Sylar?" Peter's eyes narrowed, his voice darkening.

"Yes," Hiro confirmed. "We must find out where Sylar was."

Peter nodded to Hiro. "That's what we'll do," he said firmly. Then he turned to Phoebe, concern in his dark eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked, sliding an arm around her shoulders.

She nodded mutely, forcing a weak smile. "I guess I should get used to this sort of thing, huh?"

Peter squeezed her shoulders gently. "Don't worry about it," he told her. He looked out to where the policemen were loading the bereaved father into a squad car. "I won't let anything happen to you…"


	5. Fly Away

Another massive thank-you to my readers and reviewers. Also, thanks to those who have added my story or myself to their favorites lists. You make me happy!

This is a long chapter, I'm warning you, but lots of things happen!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _After reuniting the Petrelli brothers, Phoebe Agnew went to a coffee shop down the street to wait for Peter, who insisted on escorting her home. While she waited, Nathan told Peter than Hiro Nakamura was still in New York City, and Hiro showed up at the coffee shop and introduced himself to Phoebe. He proceeded to fill her in on the details of how the world was saved. A drunk man entered the coffee shop lamenting the death of his daughter. Hiro used his power to stop the man from getting too unruly, and as the police were dragging him away, the man said something about the top of his daughter's head being cut off. Hiro and Phoebe realized that Sylar was probably his daughter's murderer. Then Peter showed up, and they told him what had happened.

That coffee shop is certainly getting crowded. We can't have just one Petrelli in there, now can we?

**Chapter Five (Fly Away)**

"What's going on in here?" Nathan Petrelli burst into the coffee shop, shadowed by an obvious bodyguard. "Pete, what happened?" He hurried to his brother's side, flashing smiles at the staring customers of the shop.

"There was this guy…" Peter nodded toward the squad car as it sped away. "This drunk guy. We think Sylar killed his daughter."

Nathan turned sharply to his bodyguard and motioned for the man to wait outside. Then he turned back to his brother, Phoebe, and Hiro. "Sylar? Are you sure?"

Hiro nodded. "Yes, Nathan Petrelli. Sylar."

The four heroes moved further into the corner of the shop, glancing over their shoulders. Phoebe moved a bit awkwardly. Peter's arm was still around her shoulders, and she was not quite sure what to do about that.

Nathan glanced over his shoulder at the coffee shop customers. "Maybe we should go somewhere else to talk about this…"

"We can go to my hotel room," Phoebe suggested.

"Like I need to be spotted in another hotel with another blond." Nathan groaned. "No thank you."

"Well I'll be there, Nathan," said Peter. "And Hiro." He shrugged. "If anyone asks questions, we'll find a way to explain things." He moved closer to his brother, slackening his hold on Phoebe's shoulders. "Look, we need to talk about this. We need to come up with a plan."

"How to stop the villain," Hiro spoke up, grinning with confidence at Nathan.

Nathan's lips twitched in a failed attempt to keep from smiling at the little Asian man. "You're right," he conceded. "Let's do this."

* * *

Phoebe hurried to the door of her hotel room as it vibrated from the first few knocks. "I'm coming!" she called, peering through the peephole. Slowly, she opened the door and peeked out at the pizza delivery man. "Hi," she said. 

"You ordered two large, extra cheese pizzas?" asked the young man.

Phoebe nodded. "Yes."

"Well… Here they are," he said awkwardly, holding up the boxes.

"How much do I owe you?" Phoebe asked, keeping the door mostly closed.

"Twenty-six dollars and ninety-five cents," the pizza man proclaimed grandly.

"Okay." Phoebe bit her lip. "Hang on a sec." She closed the door and turned to the three men in her room. "Hiro!" she whispered, motioning to the pocketbook on her bed. "Toss it here!"

Hiro nodded and snatched up the purse, lobbing it at Phoebe.

Phoebe snatched it out of the air and spun to face the door, opening it a crack. "Here you go," she said, digging into her purse for a twenty and a ten. "Keep the change!" Awkwardly, she took the two pizza boxes from the delivery man.

"You gonna eat all that by yourself?" he asked, peering around her curiously.

Phoebe moved to block his view. "Bye!" she said brightly, shutting the door in his face.

"Phoebe, let me pay you back for that," Nathan insisted, coming forward.

"No." Phoebe shook her head. "Not gonna do it." She held up the pizza boxes. "If you guys don't mind helping me with these…"

Peter beat the others to it, taking the boxes from Phoebe's arms. "Thanks so much, Phoebe. You're great."

She blushed lightly. "No problem," she managed to squeak out. Her eyes followed him as he moved across the room to the table. Then she noticed that Nathan was watching her watch his brother, his eyebrows raised. She quickly held a finger to her lips, hoping he would not say anything.

Nathan winked at her, then turned his attention to the pizza boxes.

"You like Peter Petrelli?" a small voice whispered in Phoebe's ear.

She turned wide eyes on Hiro, who was standing beside her. "Is it that obvious?"

Hiro pushed his glasses up on his nose, his round face lit up with a smile. "You think he is cute?"

"Yes, but don't tell him," she whispered. Out loud she said, "So… Who wants to dig in first?"

Half an hour later, there was very little pizza left. Phoebe perched on the edge of the hotel bed, feeling stuffed after only two pieces. Hiro sprawled on the floor nearby. Nathan sat in the chair at the table, looking every inch the politician, while Peter paced restlessly by the window.

"So… What are we going to do about Sylar?" Phoebe spoke up quietly.

Peter looked at her, dark eyes narrowed with worry. "We've got to stop him. I know he's planning something bad."

"What about that man whose daughter was killed?" Phoebe suggested. "Could we somehow find out where they lived?"

"I'll handle that," said Nathan. "I can pull some strings with the police department."

"Well there's a start," said Phoebe. She glanced down at Hiro, who looked like a little school boy, with his chin propped in his hands. "Any ideas, Hiro?"

"Maybe if we find others, other heroes, we can do something," he told her, frowning in concentration. "There are only four of us, and Sylar is very powerful man."

"Maybe not," said Peter quietly.

The others looked at him.

"What do you mean, Pete?" Nathan asked.

Peter crossed his arms, looking out the window. "I mean… After everything that happened, maybe he can't use all of his powers anymore. I don't know." He shrugged.

Phoebe frowned, suddenly struck by a distressing idea.

Nathan put the idea into words. "Peter… Can you use your power?"

Peter met his brother's eyes, quiet for a moment. Then he shook his head. "Not all of them, no."

"You _can't_? Or you _won't_?" Nathan amended.

Before Peter could answer, there was a loud bang on the door. Phoebe jumped, nearly falling off the bed. "I'll get it," she said, standing. "It's probably room service or something."

Nathan frowned. "At this time of day? Isn't it a little late for that?"

Peter moved to Phoebe's side. "I'll go with you," he told her quietly.

She gave him a grateful smile, and they walked toward the door, which shuddered suddenly under a strong blow. _Whoever's trying to get in here isn't very happy… _Phoebe thought.

Nervously, she looked through the peephole. "Peter…" She turned to him with wide, frightened eyes. "There's something covering the hole…"

"What?" He leaned over her, trapping her pleasantly between him and the door, and took a look for himself. Then he looked down at her, one dark brow raised. "Someone doesn't want us to see them…"

By this time, Nathan and Hiro were on their feet, moving slowly toward the door.

Then there was another loud bang.

Phoebe jumped away from the door with a gasp, and Peter wrapped his arms around her, pulling her further back into the hotel room.

"Peter… The door's not locked… What if…?"

The handle began to turn.

"Is there another way out of this room?" Nathan asked Phoebe quickly.

Phoebe shook her head. "No…"

"Peter--you take Phoebe. I'll take Hiro. We're going out the window," Nathan ordered.

Peter shook his head vehemently. "I _can't_, Nathan. I _can't_!" He reached out and slid the chain lock in place just as the door shoved open. The chain stopped it with a jerk, and the person on the other side swore.

"Peter. Look at me," Nathan ordered. When he had his brother's attention, he said quietly, "You can fly. You _have _to fly."

"Nathan… I might lose control," Peter insisted.

That was when Phoebe understood. Peter was refusing to use his powers because he was afraid he would lose control and explode… _again._

Suddenly, a bulky arm slipped through the chained door--and the hand on the end of it held a gun.

"Get down!" Hiro wailed.

The four heroes flung themselves to the floor as their attacker pulled the trigger. _This can't be happening… This isn't happening… _Phoebe thought frantically from beneath Peter, who shielded her with his body, pressing her tightly to the floor.

"The window, Peter!" Nathan shouted. He crawled toward the window, with Hiro close behind.

"I can't do it!" Peter exclaimed, pressing Phoebe harder into the carpet as another bullet burst into the room, shattering the window in question.

"Peter… You have to try," Phoebe told him. Reaching out with her power, she slammed the door hard on the attacker's arm. With a curse, the arm was withdrawn. "Come on!" Phoebe yelled, slipping out from under Peter. She bent and grabbed him by the arm, hauling him to his feet. "I trust you, Peter," she told him steadily, somehow believing every word she said. "You won't explode! You can control it! You can do this!"

Peter looked deeply into her eyes, as if searching for the truth he hoped to find. For a moment, Phoebe thought he would kiss her, so intense was his gaze. Then he nodded. "Alright. Come on." He took her hand and they ran to join Nathan and Hiro by the shattered window.

Nathan and Hiro had made short work of the rest of the window. It was now nothing more than a gateway into the open air, where dusk was beginning to take over.

"Let's go!" said Nathan, grabbing hold of Hiro, whose eyes were huge with sudden fear.

"Hold onto me, Phoebe," Peter told her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She nodded, linking her arms tightly behind his neck and leaning into his shoulder. That was when she saw the hand with the pistol slip back into the room. "Peter! The gun!" she screamed.

There was a cracking sound as the gun was fired. Quick as a flash, Peter spun, turning his back to the door of the room, bending protectively over Phoebe. His body jerked as the bullet raked across the top of his shoulder, inches from Phoebe's head.

"Peter!" Nathan shouted, rushing to his brother's side.

Peter slumped into Phoebe, and she slipped her arms around his waist, holding him tightly.

Flinging an arm around his brother's back, Nathan turned to Hiro. "Hiro!" he called, nodding toward the door and the attacker.

Hiro nodded, then pinched his face in a frown, concentrating hard, cheeks wobbling.

Phoebe blinked, and suddenly Hiro was standing beside her. The door was shut, the attacker gone. She blinked again. What had happened? What had Hiro done?

"Peter, heal!" Nathan commanded his brother.

Slumped between Nathan and Phoebe, Peter nodded. "I will," he managed, his voice tight with pain. "Let's just get out of here first."

"Okay, Pete," said Nathan, looking at Phoebe over Peter's shoulder.

Phoebe met the congressman's eyes and nodded to him. A sudden understanding passed between them. _If it's up to the two of us, Peter will be protected._

Nathan moved reluctantly away from his wounded brother, grabbing hold of Hiro. "Let's go," he said.

Moving gingerly, Peter stood beside his brother, arms wrapped around Phoebe. He nodded, face pale. "Where to?"

"Home," said Nathan.

And they shot up into the sky.

* * *

Phoebe lifted her head from Peter's chest and looked around, feeling ridiculously disoriented. Through wind-stung eyes, she saw Nathan and Hiro straightening, Hiro nearly tripping over a dead-looking rosebush. _Are we in a garden? _

"Peter! Phoebe!" Nathan exclaimed, rushing to them.

"Are you okay?" Hiro asked, sliding to a kneel beside Phoebe.

"Peter…" Phoebe rolled off of the man beneath her, suddenly alert. "Peter! Are you alright?" She framed his pale face with shaking hands.

Peter's eyes opened and he frowned, shuddering. "Did we make it?"

Phoebe nodded, sighing heavily with relief. "Yeah. Thanks to you and Nathan and Hiro." She slid a gentle arm behind his shoulders and helped him sit up, keeping one arm behind his back.

Nathan knelt beside them, laying a hand on top of Phoebe's. "And thanks to you, too, Phoebe. If you hadn't shut that door on our unwelcome visitor's arm…" He turned his gaze to Hiro. "Who was it, Hiro?"

Hiro shrugged. "Very big man. Very bad man. He now stuck in ladies' restroom. Locked in." He grinned proudly.

"Where are we?" Phoebe asked.

"Mom's garden," said Peter, shaking his head as if to clear it.

"Peter, your shoulder," said Nathan worriedly.

"Oh!" Peter glanced at his right shoulder. The sleeve of his shirt was stained darkly. "I forgot about that." He winced.

"You need to go to a hospital," said Phoebe fearfully. She swallowed, her throat suddenly tightening. "If I hadn't screamed, you wouldn't have turned, and--"

"And _you_ would have been shot," said Peter quickly. He smiled groggily. "I couldn't let that happen, because _you_ can't do this," he said, unbuttoning his shirt. He gingerly drew his right arm out of the sleeve. "Watch."

Phoebe stared as the deep gash on his shoulder slowly knit itself together, leaving behind smooth, bloodstained skin. "Oh my gosh…"

"Yeah." Peter shrugged back into his shirt. "I got that one from Claire."

"The cheerleader," said Phoebe, voice frail with awe.

"Yes. The cheerleader," said Peter. He glanced suddenly, oddly, at Nathan, and the elder Petrelli brother looked away.

"It's good thing you not scared to use power anymore, Peter Petrelli," Hiro spoke up, breaking up the abrupt awkwardness that seemed to surround the mention of Claire the cheerleader.

"Yeah." Peter nodded, smiling at the little Japanese man. "And it's a good thing you did what you did, or we might all be in pretty bad shape."

Hiro shrugged, grinning. "I enjoy."

Nathan turned to Hiro. "So you didn't recognize that man who attacked us? Not at all?"

Hiro shook his head, grin fading. "No. Not at all. I just push him into ladies' restroom and lock door." He groaned and held out his arms. "Very big man. Very hard to move."

Nathan grinned at the little man and patted him on the shoulder. "Come on. Let's go inside. You can all stay here for the night." He stood up, then bent to pull Phoebe, then Peter to their feet.

"What's Heidi going to say about this?" Peter asked, dark brows raised.

"I'll explain everything to her," said Nathan casually as they began walking toward the mansion.

"Everything?" asked Peter. "The truth?"

Nathan glanced sharply at his brother.

Peter shrugged. "That's what I'd do, Nathan. Tell her the truth."

"Too much of the truth would traumatize her, Pete," Nathan argued. "So let's just keep things quiet for awhile, alright? Let me handle Heidi later."

Peter pressed his lips together and looked away from Nathan. Phoebe could tell he was holding back what he wanted to say.

"Nathan! Where have you been!?" called a woman's voice.

"Not a word, Peter," Nathan warned his brother.

"Alright, Nathan. Whatever you say," Peter conceded reluctantly. Then he squinted in the darkening light. "Nathan… She can walk?" His eyes suddenly widened on his brother's impassive face.

"Yes. I'll explain later," said Nathan.

Phoebe and Hiro exchanged glances. Phoebe could tell that Hiro was as confused about this as she was.

"Heidi!" Nathan was all smiles, walking forward to greet his wife as she came out into the garden.

Phoebe's eyebrows raised. _Wow. She's pretty. And he's gorgeous. I bet if they have any kids, those kids are absolutely flawless. _She watched quietly as the good looking couple embraced, fancying there was a touch of uneasiness between them.

Then the woman looked around her husband and saw Peter, Phoebe, and Hiro standing there in the garden. "Nathan… Peter's back?"

"He's back," said Nathan with a tight smile. "And these are his friends--Phoebe Agnew and Hiro Nakamura."

Phoebe nodded politely to the woman, suddenly aware how shabby she and Hiro must look from their ride through the air, not to mention Peter's bloody shirt.

"Hello," said Heidi hesitantly. She looked up at her husband with searching eyes.

"I'll explain later," he told her quietly. "They've been through quite a night. Someone tried to mug them downtown."

_Put a little more truth in that, Nathan, and it might not even be a lie, _Phoebe thought at him.

"Well… Peter, I'm glad you're back." Heidi gave her brother-in-law a tight smile, then turned to her unexpected guests, her voice tight and overly polite. "Come inside."

"Thank-you," said Phoebe quietly, following Peter's lead as he walked past Nathan and Heidi into the house. She glanced over her shoulder at Hiro, who met her wide-eyed gaze with one of his own.

* * *

"Phoebe, where _are _you!?" Sasha exclaimed. 

Phoebe switched her cell phone to the other ear, pacing across the perfect hardwood floor. "You'll never guess."

"I've been trying and trying to call you!" Sasha continued frantically. "You must have left your cell phone again. You're always doing that to me, Phoebs. Every time I--"

"Sasha, I'm in the Petrelli mansion," Phoebe told her friend quietly.

"You're… what?" Sasha squeaked.

"In the Petrelli mansion," Phoebe told her matter-of-factly.

"Oh. My. Gosh."

"Yeah. I know." Phoebe laid back on the luxuriant bed with a sigh. "And Peter Petrelli is in the next room over."

"What!? You _found _him!?"

"Sort of. And he sort of found me." Phoebe twirled a lock of red-gold hair around her finger, thinking of Peter, particularly of that look in his eyes when he had decided to try flying again…

"Phoebe… Why aren't you in your hotel room?" Sasha asked quietly. "You haven't been… seduced, have you?"

Phoebe laughed. "No! Sasha! Me? Seduced?" _Why does my laugh sound so awkward? I never laugh like that… _"Look, something bad happened in the hotel room. Hiro, one of my new friends, snuck back in and got my stuff. I'm not staying there anymore. And I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel flower shopping tomorrow. Some crazy things are going on."

Sasha was quiet for a moment. "Phoebe…" She sighed audibly. "Be careful, alright?"

"I will," said Phoebe quickly.

"I don't just mean…" Sasha sighed again. "I mean with your heart, too, Phoebe."

Phoebe smiled slowly. "Okay. And Sasha?"

"Yes?"

"Go with blue."

"Blue?"

"Blue flowers," said Phoebe. "I like blue."

Sasha giggled. "Me, too, even though I won't be seeing them. Good-night, Phoebe."

"'Night, Sasha."

* * *

"Phoebe! Phoebe! Wake up!" 

Phoebe got the distinct and disturbing sensation that a little Asian man was in her room trying to wake her up. "What is it, Hiro?" she muttered, trying her best to ignore the way he was shaking her shoulder.

"We found it! Flying Man did it!"

"Did what?" Phoebe rolled over, pulling the covers up to her chin. _Wow. I'll have to say, waking up to the smiling face of a man is a new sensation for me…_

"He found out where Sylar has been!" Hiro exclaimed excitedly.

Phoebe sat up, rubbing her tired eyes. "That's great!" Then she frowned. "Hiro… How did you get in my room?"

Hiro shrugged. "Door was unlocked." He smiled, walking toward the door. "Come meet us in breakfast room. We're going to make plan!" And with that, he was sprinting down the hall of the Petrelli mansion.

"Whoa." Phoebe stretched. "My life is officially insane." She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling disoriented. _What's missing? What's missing? There's something that didn't happen last night… Oh. _She had not had that dream about finding Peter Petrelli in a shopping mall. She smiled slowly. She did not need to find him anymore. He was right next door.

As soon as she was dressed, Phoebe wandered the corridors of the Petrelli house until she stumbled upon the breakfast room, where Hiro, Peter, and Nathan were waiting for you. "Good morning, gentlemen," she said, taking a seat at the cherry wood table across from Peter.

Peter smiled warmly in welcome. "Hi, Phoebe. Sleep well?"

"I did," said Phoebe.

"Any dreams?"

"Not special ones, just regular old dreams."

Peter's smile went crooked. "Like what?"

Phoebe resisted the urge to giggle like a child. "Well, I dreamed I was standing on the battlements of a castle, and I was wearing this puffy green dress and carrying a sword."

"Awesome!" Peter exclaimed. "_I _dreamed--"

Nathan cleared his throat.

Peter and Phoebe looked down the table. Nathan and Hiro were staring at them.

"Sorry, sorry," said Peter sheepishly. "We've got business to get down to, right?"

At that moment, a maid entered the room, carrying trays of delicious-smelling breakfast food. The four heroes at the table were quiet until she left.

Then Nathan said steadily, "John Potter is in custody for disorderly conduct and drunk driving. His daughter, Lara, was murdered three days ago in their home while he was away at work. She was fifteen."

Phoebe sucked in a breath and met Peter's sad eyes.

"The Potters' house is about a mile from here. I've told one of my friends at the police station that I'm taking a detective team to look into the case." Nathan shrugged. "And in a sense, I am."

Hiro nodded quickly. "Us!"

"That's right, Hiro," said Nathan. "Us." He picked up his fork and held it poised over a slice of quiche. "We'll go after breakfast."

They all began to eat, quietly at first, then Hiro and Nathan struck up a conversation about their past meetings.

Peter nudged Phoebe's foot gently under the table. "You look nervous," he said quietly.

"I am," she replied.

"Don't be," said Peter.

"Why not?" Phoebe asked wryly. "We're about to go into the house of a girl who was just killed--not to bring sympathy cards, but to try to find her killer--because we want to come face to face with him. That kind of makes me nervous."

"I told you before, and I'll say it again." Peter leaned forward on the table, dark eyes intense. "I won't let anything happen to you. I'll take care of you."

Phoebe was struck momentarily breathless. Then she managed to nod. "Okay…" She smiled slowly. "You've already proved that you'll do that. But be warned--" She waved her fork at him. "I'll be looking out for you next time, as well."

Peter opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it, grinning and nodding. "Alright. We'll look out for each other, then."

At the other end of the table, Hiro leaned forward and whispered to Nathan, "Phoebe Agnew… She likes your brother."

Nathan nodded and swallowed a sip of orange juice. "You're right, Hiro," he said quietly. He looked down the table at his brother and Phoebe, who were completely lost in conversation with each other. "I'd be willing to bet he likes her, too."

Hiro grinned. "Good!" he exclaimed. "They'll be happy!"

Nathan nodded, but his smile was tight. Happy was hard to come by in this family…


	6. Imprint of the Past

Thanks again to those who read and those who both read and review!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _While discussing how to save the world in Phoebe's hotel room, the four heroes are attacked by a mysterious man. He manages to shoot Peter, but Hiro freezes time and locks him in the ladies' restroom in the lobby. Peter and Nathan fly Phoebe and Hiro out the window and into the garden of the Petrelli mansion, where Peter demonstrates his healing ability and heals himself. Nathan invites the others to stay the night, explaining things away quite vaguely to his wife. The next morning, over breakfast, the four of them discuss how to find Sylar. Nathan has discovered the house where the murdered girl and her father live, so they plan to investigate it for clues. And Nathan and Hiro begin to notice the way Peter and Phoebe hit if off so well.

**Chapter Six (Imprint of the Past)**

The Potter's house was small, but well-furnished and nicely decorated, the exterior covered in red brick, the interior paneled in an old-fashioned, but comfy style. And there was blood on the kitchen floor.

Phoebe stared down at the bloodstain, feeling suddenly cold and numb. A fifteen-year-old girl had died in this room, her life snatched away from her by an extremely powerful, extremely psychotic man. It was almost enough to overwhelm her…

"You alright?" asked a quiet, concerned voice from beside her.

Phoebe snapped her head up, meeting Peter's dark, empathetic eyes. She nodded. "Yes. I'll be fine." And suddenly, everything did overwhelm her, and she shuddered. _I'm just a schoolteacher from Texas. I'm not ready for this epic war! I'M SO SCARED!_

"It's gonna be alright, Phoebe." Peter was suddenly and gently drawing her into his arms. "We're gonna stop him." His lips were suddenly ever so close to her ear, his breath warm, his fingers softly enmeshed in her hair. "I promise…"

She nodded dazedly against his chest, comforted by the warmth of him, by the rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Peter! Phoebe!" called Hiro from the living room. "I think I found something!"

Phoebe closed her eyes and sighed, wishing that she could go on like this for a while longer.

"Come on, Phoebe." Peter kissed the top of her head. "Let's see what Hiro's got." He drew back softly from her, but kept an arm around her shoulders as they walked into the living room.

Hiro and Nathan stood by the television set, turning to look as Peter and Phoebe entered the room.

"You okay, Phoebe?" Nathan asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She nodded mutely.

"She's just a little… upset," said Peter. "What did Hiro find?"

"Look." Hiro moved slowly back from the TV, his eyes sad.

Imprinted into the screen was the shape of a man. To Peter and Hiro, it was a familiar shape.

Sylar.

"Is that--?" Phoebe asked, pointing.

Peter nodded. "Sylar."

"How--?"

"The girl must have had some sort of ability allowing her to imprint images," said Nathan, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast. "There are some imprinted pictures hanging in the hall."

They were all quiet for a moment.

"I afraid this not help us very much," Hiro proclaimed sadly, shaking his head.

Peter suddenly moved away from Phoebe, walking toward the imprinted TV screen.

"Peter?" Nathan was suddenly alert, watching his brother closely. "What is it?"

"Don't you feel it?" Peter asked vaguely, bending to touch the screen. His eyes widened as his fingers met the imprint of Sylar. "Oh… Wow." He straightened and turned to face Phoebe, who stood pensively in the doorway of the living room. "I can see it!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"See what?" Phoebe asked.

"What it looked like before…" Peter suddenly frowned. "Oh… Oh no…"

"Pete, what is it?" Nathan asked sharply, moving closer to his brother.

"What is going on?" Hiro wondered aloud, glancing at Phoebe.

She moved to join the others in a semi-circle around Peter. "Peter… What do you see?" she asked, stretching out her hands to him.

He took her hands, eyes wide and over-bright, seeing far more than the contents of the room. "Phoebe… I don't know how I'm doing this, but I'm seeing--" He gasped suddenly, throwing his head back.

"Peter!" Phoebe and Nathan exclaimed simultaneously.

"It's Sylar!" Peter cried. Still gripping Phoebe's hands, he collapsed to his knees. "He--he has her! Lara! No!" His eyes met Phoebe's for an instant, then closed as he released her hands and slumped to the floor.

"No, Peter! Not again!" Nathan slid to his knees by his brother, gathering the limp form in his arms.

"What--what's happening?" Phoebe managed, hunkering down beside the brothers, heart pounding with worry. "Is he seeing the future?"

"No," said a quiet voice from beside her.

Phoebe and Nathan looked up at Hiro.

"I think he see the past," the little man said.

The three of them looked at each other, then at Peter.

"Come on, Pete. Wake up." Nathan shook his brother gently, then met Phoebe's eyes. "Last time this happened, he was in a coma for two weeks," he told her, voice tight with worry.

Phoebe reached out with a shaky hand and brushed Peter's dark bangs back from his closed eyes. "Oh, gosh. Oh, Peter…"

Hiro was shaking his head frantically. "This time is different! I know it! We have to wake him up!"

"What do you mean?" Nathan asked quickly. Phoebe could tell he was struggling to keep his emotions under control.

"I mean, I don't think this time like other time," said Hiro.

"How do you know?" Nathan snapped.

Hiro sighed. "I not sure. But I saw us all in the coffee shop. And it was not two weeks away. Peter was awake."

"But what if this wasn't supposed to happen?" Nathan whispered hoarsely.

They were all quiet for a moment.

"Come on," said Nathan finally, struggling to stand and lift Peter at the same time. "I'm taking him to the hospital."

Phoebe stood as well, her eyes never leaving Peter's face. It upset her so badly to see him dangling limply in his brother's arms, eyes closed, face pale… She lifted both hands to her mouth, fighting to keep from screaming.

Hiro moved to her side, gently touching her shoulder. "It will be okay," he said quietly.

"I hope--"

"Nathan…" Peter's eyes fluttered as his head lolled against his brother's shoulder.

"Peter!" Nathan exclaimed. He quickly carried his brother toward the couch and laid him down. "What happened?"

Peter looked up at the three faces bending over him, eyes wide. "I saw what happened. I saw the past."

"Are you alright?" Phoebe asked, somehow managing to keep her voice calm, kneeling beside Peter and taking his hand.

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm fine. But Lara…" His voice cracked with emotion. "I saw what happened to her."

"It was Sylar?" Hiro asked.

Peter sat up slowly, nodding. "Yeah. It was Sylar."

"Peter, how did you do it? You've never had that ability before," Nathan said quietly.

"I know," Peter replied, one dark eyebrow raised. He shook his head. "I don't know how it happened, Nathan."

"Did you learn anything useful?" Hiro asked excitedly.

Peter shook his head, frowning. "I don't think--" Then his face brightened. "Wait… Sylar said something, right before he left. A name!" He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "If only I could remember what he said…" He concentrated for a moment, then sighed in frustration. "It's gone. I can't remember."

"Well in that case, we'd better get out of here," said Nathan. "We've lingered long enough."

_And didn't find out anything useful, _Phoebe thought dejectedly, biting her lip.

"Maybe I can remember that name," Peter muttered, starting to rise. He swayed dizzily on his feet.

"Whoa. Easy, Peter." Nathan placed a firm hand under his brother's elbow. "Let's not overdo it."

Phoebe quickly rose to her feet and slipped an arm around Peter's slender waist. "We've had a rough day today, haven't we?" she remarked as they made their way toward the door of the Potter home. The calmness in her voice belied the shakiness she felt inside. Seeing Peter collapse right in front of her was something she would not soon get over…

"It's okay, Phoebe," Peter said to her quietly.

She looked up at him, eyes wide. "_You're_ the one who just fell out on the floor, and _you're _comforting _me_?"

Peter grinned crookedly. "Yeah. Something like that."

Nathan and Hiro exchanged knowing looks as the four of them walked out of the house, then Nathan went to speak with the police officer who had been set to guard it. Phoebe kept anxious eyes on Peter's face as they waited by Nathan's limo.

"You can't remember at all the name?" Hiro spoke up, eyes worried behind his glasses.

Peter shook his head, looking down at the ground. "No."

"Try harder," Hiro encouraged brightly. "Sometimes, that works."

Peter flashed his friend a lopsided grin. "Okay. If you say so…" He closed his eyes, lips pressed tightly together as he concentrated.

Phoebe and Hiro held their respective breaths.

Then, abruptly, Peter's eyes opened, wide and excited. "Brad Collins," he breathed.

Phoebe's heart missed a beat.

"Nathan!" Peter called to his brother. "I remember the name!"

Hiro frowned at Phoebe, noticing the stricken look on her face. "Phoebe, what is wrong?"

"Brad--Brad Collins…" Phoebe swallowed. "He's my friend's fiancé."

"Your friend? Sasha?" Peter asked excitedly. "The one who can sense things with her hands?"

Phoebe nodded. "That's the one. Peter… In my dreams--your dreams--Sylar was after Sasha. We have to warn her."

Nathan joined the others by the limo. "What's going on?"

"I remembered, Nathan," said Peter. "The name--Brad Collins."

"Brad Collins is fiancé to friend of Phoebe," Hiro added.

"What!?"

"It's all connected, Nathan," said Peter breathlessly. "_We're _all connected."

Nathan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Brad Collins? Are you sure?"

Peter nodded.

"Brad Collins is a paralegal in my company," Nathan said quietly. "I know him. I'm supposed to meet with him tonight." He turned to Phoebe. "He's engaged to a friend of yours?"

"Yes." Phoebe nodded. "Sasha. She's--she's one of us."

"And in our dreams, Sylar was after Sasha," Peter added.

"Get in the car," said Nathan quickly. "Phoebe, give Thomas directions to Sasha's place."

"She might not even be there," Phoebe said as they all slid into the limousine.

"Well call her and find out where she is," Nathan insisted. "That's where we're going."

* * *

As the limousine pulled up in the driveway of her apartment building, Sasha came out to meet it, waving her cane in front of her. 

Phoebe got out first, rushing to her friend's side. "Sasha! Are you alright?"

Sasha frowned. "Of course I am! What's this all about, Phoebe?" She was quiet, listening carefully as the three men got out of the limo. "Phoebe… Who are they?"

"Peter Petrelli."

"Hi," said Peter.

"Nathan Petrelli."

"Nice to meet you," said Nathan.

"And Hiro Nakamura."

"Hello," said Hiro brightly.

"Oh." Sasha's blind eyes widened. "Well… Nice to meet all of you, too." She reached out and grabbed hold of Phoebe's shoulder. "Now Phoebe… Do you mind telling me what the heck is going on?"

"Sasha, there's a man named Sylar--"

"A very bad man," Hiro put in.

"--and he's after you. And Brad."

"Brad?" Sasha frowned. "And me? Why?"

"Because you're special," said Phoebe quietly. She glanced at the three men beside her. "All five of us. We can all… do things, things that aren't normal."

"Have you been reading that book, then?" Sasha wondered.

"What book?" asked Phoebe.

"Dr. Suresh's book--_Activating Evolution._ I've got a Braille copy in my room." Sasha smiled. "I started reading it as soon as I discovered what I can do with my hands. I think he's right about most things."

"Sasha, I know Dr. Suresh's son," Peter spoke up. "Mohinder Suresh." He glanced at his brother. "Nathan and I have met him."

"Really?" Sasha's eyebrows raised. "I'd like to meet him. I hear his father was murdered a while back. That's so sad…"

"Sasha, the man who murdered Chandra Suresh is the one who wants us all dead," Peter told her solemnly.

"Oh! Oh my goodness!" Sasha exclaimed, twisting one small hand nervously around the handle of her cane.

"Sasha, you have to come with us," said Phoebe, hands on her friend's delicate shoulders. "And we have to find Brad as soon as possible."

"Alright. I--" Suddenly, Sasha's cell phone rang. "Sorry. Hang on just a second." She turned her back on the four heroes, quickly answering her phone. "Hello? What!? You must be mistaken…" Her voice shook. "No! It's not true! It can't--" She spun to face Phoebe, eyes filling with tears as the cell phone slipped from her hand to shatter on the pavement.

"Sasha, what is it?" Phoebe asked, dread cold and hard in her stomach.

Sasha's body shuddered with a sob. "Brad!" she cried. "He's dead!"

* * *

Phoebe, Peter, Hiro, and Nathan were sober as they waited in the limousine outside of Brad Collins' house. Phoebe felt cold inside and out. She was tempted to draw her knees up to her chest like a child and cry, but did not want to put her feet on the super-clean seat of the car, so she sat with her legs awkwardly crossed, beside Peter, across from Hiro and Nathan, not crying. 

"This is terrible," Hiro spoke up softly, looking at his three friends. "Maybe I should go back in time, change things." Then his frown deepened. "But that did not work before."

"Here we are with all our 'powers,' and we can't change a thing," Nathan muttered darkly, looking out the window.

"We can stop Sylar from getting to Sasha," Peter said, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"I wonder what power Brad had," Phoebe mused, shifting her legs restlessly. "Whatever it was, I suppose Sylar has it now…" She remembered Brad suddenly, upset that she had only met him one time. She would never forget the way his big, booming laugh had made Sasha smile, Sasha who was now alone. Groaning, she buried her face in her hands.

"Hey… Phoebe. It's gonna be okay." Peter moved closer to her, wrapping an arm around her and drawing her to his shoulder.

"Not for Sasha," Phoebe whispered.

"I know how Sasha feels," Peter said quietly.

"Me, too," said Hiro.

_Have they both lost loves, too? _Phoebe wondered, settling comfortably against the warmth that was Peter. _It sucks being special…_

Sasha returned to the limousine then, her blind eyes blank, as if she were a dead woman. She slid into the seat beside Hiro, holding her cane across her lap.

"Where do we go now?" Phoebe asked quietly. She looked at Nathan. "We can't all stay at your house. Your wife will go crazy."

"You can all stay at my apartment," Peter suggested. "If anyone was trying to find me, they would have looked there by now, so it should be safe."

"Good idea, Peter." Nathan nodded approvingly, then opened the soundproof screen to give directions to the limo driver. As soon as he had closed it, he said, "We need to find out where Sylar is. And we need to find out who was shooting at us the other night."

"You no think big, angry man working alone?" Hiro asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

Nathan crossed his arms, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "I don't know," he replied wearily.

"We don't know _anything_," Peter spoke up, dark eyes stormy. "We don't know who tried to shoot us. We don't know where Sylar's going next. We don't--"

"Wait," Sasha interrupted him, turning her face toward him.

"What is it?" Peter asked her.

"I might know where he's going next," the blind girl said.

"What do you mean, Sasha?" Phoebe asked, leaning forward.

"Brad… before he died, he sent me a message," Sasha said quietly, arms wrapped around herself. She smiled sadly. "I guess he knew something was going to happen to him."

"What did the message say?" Nathan asked quickly.

"I have it here in my pocket. He left it with my building manager, and she read it to me." Sasha reached into the pocket of her jeans, sniffing. "I kept it because… it smells like him." She took out a crumpled sticky note and held it out.

Phoebe took the paper and read it, green eyes wide. "Oh. Oh my gosh!"

"What?" asked Peter, looking over her shoulder. He gasped. "Nathan!" he exclaimed, turning to his brother. "We have to find Claire!"

Nathan was instantly alert. "Why? What is it?"

"Look!" Peter took the paper from Phoebe and handed it to his brother.

The note read: SASHA, I'M GOING TO TRY TO GET IN TOUCH WITH A YOUNG LADY NAMED CLAIRE BENNET TOMORROW, SO I MIGHT BE LATE TO DINNER. I THINK SHE MIGHT NEED MY HELP. WE SHARE A COMMON ENEMY. WITH LOVE, BRAD.


	7. Needed

Thanks and lots of Heroes love to all of my readers--and especially to my beloved reviewers!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning)_: Peter, Phoebe, Nathan, and Hiro go to the house of Lara Potter, the girl whom Sylar killed. Once there, they discover that Lara was able to make imprints of anything she saw, and there is an imprint of Sylar on the TV screen. Drawing near the imprint, Peter discovers that he is able to see the past, but promptly passes out, throwing Phoebe and Nathan into a panic and Hiro into thoughtfulness. When Peter wakes up, he reveals that he heard Sylar mention a name in his post-cog vision--Brad Collins, who is connected to both Phoebe and Nathan. He is the fiance of Phoebe's friend, Sasha, and a paralegal working for Nathan. The heroes quickly make their way to Sasha, but as soon as they meet her, she receives a phone call saying that Brad has been murdered. Sylar has struck again! Sasha gives the others the last message Brad ever sent to her, in which he reveals the fact that Claire Bennet is in danger...

...and so our story continues!

**Chapter Seven (Needed)**

Standing in Peter Petrelli's darkened apartment, Phoebe felt as if her world were turning upside down. Her stomach twisted unpleasantly every time she thought of Brad or of fifteen-year-old Lara, both victims of Sylar. "Sylar…" she whispered to the darkness, crossing her arms and leaning against one of Peter's bookcases. The shadowed man from her dreams, in which he had been using her to get to Peter… The thought made her shudder. And now, apparently, he was after this cheerleader, this Claire Bennet.

Peter walked out of the bathroom, dressed in pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt. He opened his mouth to speak, then caught sight of Hiro snoring on the couch. Quietly, he moved to Phoebe's side and whispered, "You're not tired?"

"I can't sleep. I tried," said Phoebe quietly. "Sasha keeps talking in her sleep, about Brad." She sighed shakily. "And plus…" She threw up her hands. "There is so much going on, so much…"

Peter took her hand, running his thumb up and down the side of it, his dark, soulful eyes catching her eyes and holding them. "I'm sorry I got you involved in all of this," he said quietly.

"Don't apologize, Peter," said Phoebe hoarsely, vehemently. "I _needed _you. I would have found you whether you wanted me to or not." She smiled wryly. "I know who--and what--I am, now." Then she frowned thoughtfully. "Peter, who is Claire Bennet?"

Peter sighed. "It's complicated."

"Everything about all of this is complicated," said Phoebe. "I'd just like to know who she is--and why you and Nathan act all strange whenever her name is mentioned."

"You noticed that?" asked Peter, wincing.

"Uhm, yeah," Phoebe replied. "It's kind of obvious."

Peter glanced around the room, as if making sure Hiro and Sasha were asleep. "Come on. Let's go to the kitchen, and I'll tell you."

"Okay." Phoebe let him lead her by the hand into the small kitchen area.

"Want some milk?" Peter asked, releasing her hand and opening the refrigerator.

"That would be nice," said Phoebe, moving to sit in one of the kitchen chairs. She watched Peter closely as he poured their milk, admiring the lean, graceful lines of his body, the ever-mobile expressions of his face… _Girl, you've got it bad!_

"Here you go." Peter sat across from her, sliding a tall glass of milk across the small table.

Phoebe took a sip of the smooth liquid, feeling absurdly at home in this man's kitchen, drinking his milk, and talking about saving the world. "So… Who is Claire?"

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Peter asked, cocking his head to one side.

"Yes," said Phoebe a bit uncertainly, wondering what all the suspense was about.

"She's Nathan's daughter," Peter said, his voice low.

"Nathan's daughter…" Phoebe's green eyes widened. "Oh!"

"Yeah. He thought she was dead until recently." Peter took a deep gulp of milk. "I saved her life before I even knew she was my niece." He smiled bemusedly. "That was… crazy… and amazing."

"I'll bet," said Phoebe, eyebrows raised.

"So… That's who Claire is." He took another gulp of milk, eyes suddenly tired as he set down the glass with a thud. "Gosh, what time is it?"

Phoebe glanced around him at the clock on his microwave. "Uhm… It's almost two in the morning."

"Wow." Peter stood. "Are you finished with your milk?"

Phoebe finished it off with a long swallow, hoping she was not getting a milk mustache. "I am now," she said with a grin, handing him the glass. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Peter said with a tired, lopsided smile. He turned and started toward the sink, then stopped, swaying slightly.

"Hey, Peter, are you okay?" Phoebe asked, worriedly getting to her feet and hurrying to his side.

"I'm fine," said Peter, blinking rapidly as if to clear blurry vision. "It's been… one heck of a day."

"Let me take those." Phoebe snatched the empty glasses from his hands before he could protest, quickly setting them in the sink, then spinning around to face him. "Where are you sleeping?" she asked.

He grinned woozily at her. "I don't know. You and Sasha have my bed. Hiro has the couch." He looked down at the kitchen floor. "I feel like plopping down right here."

"Tell me where your blankets are, and I'll make you a pallet by the couch," said Phoebe, studying him anxiously.

Peter ran a hand down his face. "You don't have to do that." He sat down on the floor, leaning back against a cabinet. "I'll just… rest here."

"Well in that case, I'm resting here, too," Phoebe proclaimed, sitting down on the floor across from him.

Peter stared at her incredulously. "You can go sleep in my bed. Really."

She shook her head. "Nope. Not with you on the kitchen floor. And besides…" She was glad for the dim light. It hid her blush. "I have to look out for you. You sort of passed out on us today at the Potter house."

Peter sighed. "That happens sometimes."

"Exactly," said Phoebe. "I'm not leaving you."

For a moment, they stared at each other. Then they both started to laugh quietly. After Phoebe was sure they had been laughing forever, Peter leaned his head back against the cabinet and sighed. "I'm glad you're here, Phoebe."

Phoebe blinked, suddenly overwhelmed with feelings of tenderness for this man across from her. She managed a smile. "Me, too."

Abruptly, Peter leaned across the floor and held his palm to her cheek, staring into her eyes. Without saying a word, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Then he moved back into his position against the cabinet and closed his eyes.

Phoebe sighed blissfully and good dreams took her.

* * *

"Hello. Hello-o!"

Phoebe groaned. _Gosh, it feels like I've been sleeping on a-- _Her eyes snapped open. _A floor. I slept on a kitchen floor. _As her dream-blurred vision cleared, the first thing she saw was Peter Petrelli, curled up on the floor across from her, eyes closed, mouth slightly open--completely asleep and completely adorable.

"What are they doing on the floor?"

Nathan.

"I no know. I find them like this. You don't think they are hurt, do you?"

And Hiro.

"Peter! Phoebe! Wake up!"

Running a hand through her hair, which was suddenly heavy, Phoebe sat up slowly and stretched. Then she looked up in the direction of the voices. Nathan and Hiro were staring down at her.

"Do you mind if I ask what happened here?" asked Nathan, sounding as if he was not sure whether to be amused or anxious.

"We just… got some milk and… went to sleep. On the… floor," said Phoebe sheepishly. She glanced at Peter's sleeping form with a grin.

"Are you sure it was just milk?" Nathan asked wryly.

Phoebe shot him a mock glare. "Absolutely sure."

Nathan made a monumental--and unsuccessful--attempt to hold a grin at bay. "If you say so."

"Peter Petrelli!" Hiro called down to the man on the floor. "Get up!"

Peter groaned and curled into a tighter ball.

Phoebe reached over and gently shoved at his shoulder. "Peter. Get up. Nathan's here."

"Nathan?" Peter stretched, yawning, then sat up, his hair a mess. "So… What's going on?" he asked, tossing his hair out of his eyes.

"Besides you sleeping on the floor?" Nathan asked wryly.

"What is going on, Flying Man?" Hiro asked curiously, turning his gaze to Nathan.

"There's definitely _something_," Nathan said, his expression darkening.

Peter and Phoebe glanced at each other, eyes nearly awake, then looked up at Nathan and Hiro. "What is it, Nathan?" Peter asked quickly.

"I was supposed to meet with Brad Collins last night," said Nathan wearily. "Of course… You know he wasn't there. He was dead." He pressed his lips together and swallowed. "Someone else showed up instead."

"Who, Nathan?" Peter asked, climbing unsteadily to his feet and reaching to help Phoebe.

"I don't know his name, but he matches the description Hiro gave me of the man who attacked us in the hotel the other night," said Nathan gravely. "Big fellow with wild hair and big teeth."

Hiro nodded in affirmation.

"He made me an offer," Nathan said quietly, looking down at his feet.

"Did you take it?" Peter asked quickly. "What was it?"

Nathan met his brother's eyes. "Of course I didn't take it," he snapped. "After everything we've been through, do you think I'm going to go making deals with someone who tried to kill us?"

Phoebe had a feeling there was some history between the brothers concerning this, something of which she was unaware. She studied Peter's face, then Nathan's, wondering.

"No," said Peter fiercely, placing a hand on his brother's arm. "I know you wouldn't do that, Nathan."

From the look on the elder Petrelli's face, Phoebe got the idea that he had probably considered taking whatever offer the mysterious man had put forward. "I'm glad you didn't take his offer, Nathan," she said quietly, hoping to add support to his conviction. She was satisfied to see him stand a little straighter, probably proud of his decision, glad that the others were proud of it as well.

"Do you know where we can find him?" Peter asked his brother.

Nathan shook his head sheepishly. "No. I don't." He sighed. "He left before I could get anyone else in the room. I was going to have my bodyguards take him, but… He's pretty fast for such a big man." He grimaced. "And he had a gun."

"Next time, call me," said Hiro. "I stop him!"

"I'll take you up on that," said Nathan with a grin.

Phoebe peered around the two men. "Where's Sasha?"

"She still sleeping," Hiro told her solemnly. "She have very bad day, so I let her sleep."

Phoebe flashed him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Hiro. She needs that."

Hiro smiled proudly. "I take care of sad girl."

"Good," said Phoebe. She placed one hand on her hip. "Now we need to go about taking care of Sylar and this mystery man."

"First we've got to get to Claire," Peter said, dark eyes worried. "If Sylar's out to get her again, she could be in trouble."

Phoebe remembered what Peter had told her the night before, and her eyes quickly went to Nathan's face, to _Claire's father's _face.

Nathan was working his jaw, eyes downcast. He finally looked up, nodding. "You're right, Pete. We have to find Claire. Where do we start?"

Peter shook his head. "I don't know. I doubt Noah Bennet is taking her back to where they came from."

_Union Wells High School… That girl was living so close all this time, and I never even knew. _Phoebe hugged herself as a chill ran up her spine.

"So how do we find her?" Nathan asked impatiently.

They were all quiet for a moment.

"I don't suppose you picked up the ability to find people anywhere, did you?" Nathan asked his brother half-seriously.

"No." Peter shook his head, biting his lip. "But somehow… I gained the ability to see the past." He frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe if we go back to the plaza… Maybe I can see the past, see where Bennet took her."

"Last time you saw the past, it was almost too much for you," said Nathan, frowning. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"But we've got to find Claire!" Peter insisted.

"Find my daughter at the cost of losing my brother?" Nathan shook his head. "That's not a chance I want to take. No thank you."

"Wait."

Everyone turned to Hiro.

"I have better plan," he told them, pushing up his glasses. "Peter Petrelli can see past, but I…" He grinned. "I can _go_ there."

"I'll go with you!" Peter exclaimed, moving toward Hiro.

"I don't think so, Pete." Nathan placed a restraining hand on his little brother's chest. "You're not strong enough yet."

"What _is _this, Nathan?" Peter asked, frustrated. "First, you want me to use my powers in the hotel room, and now you want me to take a break from them? What's with you?"

"I'm just trying to protect you, Peter," said Nathan through clenched teeth.

Unnoticed by the arguing brothers, Hiro whispered to Phoebe, "I go get my sword. Then I teleport to the past."

Phoebe nodded, wide-eyed, and watched Hiro slip out of the kitchen.

"Well why don't we _all _go, Nathan?" Peter was suggesting to his brother. "That way, we can--"  
Nathan held up a hand. "Where's Hiro?" he asked Phoebe suddenly.

Phoebe pointed toward the living room. "He said he was going to get his… sword?"

"Oh no," muttered Nathan.

"What is it?" asked Peter, frowning.

"He's probably already gone," Nathan replied. He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "And _you_, Peter, are staying right here."

* * *

Hiro was suddenly afraid that he had made a bad decision. His teleportation skills had never been very precise, and now he was trying something totally new--teleporting with a specific person in mind, not a place. As he looked around, he realized that he was not even in New York City. He was standing at the edge of a vast mountain range, covered in autumnal trees. The air was chilly and windy, and there were no people in sight--only a narrow, curvy road and a gravel parking lot a few feet away from him.

"Where am I?" Hiro wondered aloud.

"You're in the Great Smoky Mountains," a voice from behind him proclaimed proudly.

Hiro spun around, coming face to face with a tall park ranger, dressed all in khaki. "Where are… Great Smoky Mountains?"

The man laughed a big, hearty laugh. "You mean you don't know?"

Hiro shook his head.

"The Great Smoky Mountains are located in parts of North Carolina, Tennessee, and Virginia."

"So…" Hiro motioned to the mountains. "Where are _these _mountains?"

"North Carolina, son," said the park ranger proudly.

"Oh." Hiro pushed his glasses further up his nose, feeling completely lost. "What is the date?"

"Why, it's November the twenty-eighth." The park ranger raised a curious eyebrow. "What are you doing up here in the mountains with that sword?"

"I… Filming movie about samurai. And looking for friend, to show her new sword. You know her?"

"What's her name, son?"

"Her name is Claire. Claire Bennet." Hiro smiled suddenly. "She is cheerleader."

The tall man laughed loudly. "Funny you should mention that. I just met a cheerleader a few minutes ago. Can't say her name was Claire, but who knows? Could have been."

"Where is she?" Hiro asked excitedly.

"She was walking down that trail there," the park ranger said, pointing toward a trail that led from the parking lot. "Had a couple of friends with her." He shook his head. "It's not a good idea to be running around in this chilly air in a cheerleader's outfit."

"I must go find her!" Hiro exclaimed, heading for the trail.

"Good luck!" the park ranger called to him. "Tell those girls they need to put on jackets! It gets cold in these mountains!"

* * *

Phoebe, Peter, and Nathan waited impatiently in Peter's apartment for Hiro to return.

"Maybe I can try to find him," Peter suggested, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall of his living room.

"No!" Phoebe and Nathan exclaimed at once. "He'll be back," Nathan finished, sounding a bit unsure.

Peter pressed his lips together and shook his head, obviously agitated.

Phoebe crossed the room to stand beside him, gently laying a hand on his shoulder. The feel of his warmth beneath her fingers made her heartbeat quicken. "Peter, it's going to be okay." She smiled at him crookedly as he met her eyes. "Hiro has never let us down before."

Across the room, Nathan watched as Peter leaned into Phoebe's touch and Phoebe leaned her head against Peter's shoulder. It was a perfect fit. Of course. Peter and Phoebe were _right_, two halves of one whole and all that. Nathan had a sudden, poignant longing for something similar. If only he and Heidi… "Pete, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure, Nathan." Peter gave Phoebe's shoulder a squeeze, then followed his brother into the living room. "What is it?"

"Peter, how do you feel about this girl?" Nathan asked him abruptly, hands on his hips, brown eyes serious.

"I--Wow, Nathan." Peter ran his hands through his thick, dark hair, brushing it back behind his ears. "I really like her."

"Like her…" Nathan sighed. "Don't you think that's a bit of an understatement?"

Peter grinned crookedly. "Yeah… She's special, Nathan. It's like I've known her forever. I know that sounds cheesy, but… It's true." He held his brother's gaze steadily. "It's true."

Nathan looked at Peter intently for a moment, lips pressed tightly together. Then he nodded. "I can see that. You two… have something. Just… be careful, Pete. I don't want to see either of you get hurt."

"I'm gonna take care of her, Nathan," Peter insisted.

Nathan smiled a bittersweet smile and patted his little brother's arm. "Good. You do that." Then he headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Peter called, confused.

"Home. I'll be back!" Nathan called in reply.


	8. Warm and Fuzzy

Lots of gratitude and Heroes love to my readers and reviewers!

Note: I probably have the lay-out of Peter's apartment all wrong. In fact, I know I do. Just thought I'd warn any nitpickers ahead of time.

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Late at night, Peter, Phoebe, Hiro, and Sasha are in Peter's apartment. While Hiro and Sasha are sleeping, Peter takes Phoebe to the kitchen and answers her questions about Claire. Then they drink some milk, and the two of them end up falling asleep on the kitchen floor, to be discovered the next morning by a worried Hiro and a sarcastic Nathan. Nathan reveals that he was contacted by the man who tried to kill them in Phoebe's hotel room, but he did not take the offer he was given. Peter declares that he wants to find Claire, but Nathan cautions him against overtaxing his powers. While the Petrelli boys argue, Hiro tells Phoebe that he is going to try teleporting to Claire. The Japanese hero ends up in the Great Smoky Mountains, where he discovers Claire has been. Meanwhile, Nathan, watching the way Peter and Phoebe act toward each other, suddenly gets an impulse to go home. After discussing Phoebe with Peter, he exits the apartment, leaving Peter and Phoebe together... alone...

**Chapter Eight (Warm and Fuzzy)**

"Where's Nathan?" Phoebe asked as Peter walked back into the kitchen.

Peter shrugged. "He said he was going home. I'm not sure why." He moved to face the fridge. "You want some breakfast?"

"Sure." Phoebe stood beside him, watching him avidly. "I'll help you make it."

He turned to face her abruptly, and they were both suddenly aware how close they were standing, face to face, toe to toe. For a moment, they just stood there, holding their breaths.

_I'm alone with Peter Petrelli in his apartment… _Phoebe was fighting to hold back a grin. She was suddenly conscious of her hair, her clothes, her bated breath, suddenly conscious of his intense eyes, his crooked smile, the shape of his slim body. A peculiar urge came over her to grab him, slam him against the refrigerator, and kiss him with abandon; but something held her back. There was something vulnerable in Peter, something fragile, something ridiculously endearing…

Peter moved first, reaching out to brush a strand of her hair back from her face, his eyes roving over her face and form, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. Phoebe heard herself sigh, was tempted to close her eyes, this time with an urge to simply let go, to collapse into his arms.

"You look…nice," said Peter, his voice low and a bit hoarse.

"Thank-you," Phoebe managed to whisper, her blood pounding wildly. "You don't… look so bad yourself…" She winced inwardly at the cliché.

But Peter only grinned, his hand settling softly against her cheek. "Thanks."

"It's true," Phoebe said breathlessly. _Girl, just _grab _him already! Or swoon! Or something! Just _do _something_!

All of a sudden, Peter's hand was at the small of her back, pressing gently, pulling her toward him. Phoebe felt suddenly awkward, unsure what to do with her hands; but before she knew it, she had one hand placed lightly against his chest. She smiled in wonder as she felt his heart beat beneath her palm. Her other hand slid to the back of his neck, fingers reaching upward to touch his hair.

"Phoebe…" Peter started.

"Peter," said Phoebe in a whisper.

He leaned forward, pulling her against him, his lips inches away from hers.

BANG, BANG, BANG!

Peter and Phoebe jumped.

"Sorry," whispered Peter. He planted a quick kiss on Phoebe's cheek, then slipped out of her grasp. "Gotta get the door."

Phoebe watched him leave the kitchen, sighing. She melted into one of the chairs at the table, leaning her chin in one hand. _I hope whoever that is leaves soon. I definitely want to continue that almost-kiss… _The thought of actually kissing Peter Petrelli sent a pleasant chill up her spine.

"Phoebe!" Peter called suddenly, his voice excited.

Curiosity replaced pleasant anticipation, and Phoebe hurried to stand, rushing out of the kitchen into the living room. "What is it?" Then she saw.

Hiro was standing in the doorway with a smile. Beside him was a petite, blond-haired girl in a cheerleader's uniform.

"Oh!" Phoebe exclaimed. "You must be Claire."

The girl nodded, seeming a bit nervous.

"Claire, this is Phoebe," said Peter, standing aside for Hiro and Claire. "She's… a very good friend of mine." He flashed Phoebe a warm smile.

"Nice to meet you, Claire," said Phoebe with a nod.

"Nice to meet you, too," said Claire quietly.

"I find her in mountains," Hiro explained as Peter closed the apartment door. He frowned abruptly. "But I not sure this is good idea. North Carolina is far from Sylar. New York…" He sighed. "Sylar is in New York."

"But so are we," said Peter confidently. "We can watch over Claire here."

"Don't worry about me," Claire said to Hiro, elbowing him playfully. "Peter can take care of me."

"I hope so," said Hiro, smiling weakly.

"What about your family?" Phoebe asked curiously. "Do they know where you are?"

"Hiro and I left a message," Claire said with a slight grimace. "I hope my dad doesn't overreact…" She glanced quickly at Peter. "Does she know about… everything?"

Peter nodded, moving to stand by Phoebe. "Yeah. She's one of us." He slid an arm around Phoebe's waist.

"So… What can you do?" Claire asked the older girl.

"Telekinesis," said Phoebe with a wry grin. "You can heal yourself, right?"

Claire nodded. "Spontaneous regeneration. That's the scientific term, at least."

"Yeah. I saw Peter do that." Phoebe looked up at Peter, remembering the sight of his shoulder healing from the gunshot wound.

Claire's eyes widened. "Peter, what happened? Why did you have to heal?"

"Someone tried to shoot us in Phoebe's hotel room," said Peter. He held up a hand. "But don't worry. Hiro handled him."

Hiro held up his arms, flexing his muscles. "I getting very strong. I put big man in ladies' restroom."

Claire grinned. "I can imagine." Then she frowned. "Peter, you got hurt?"

Peter shrugged. "Nothing I couldn't handle. We flew out the window and got away, then I healed."

"You flew out the window…" Claire's eyes were suddenly anxious. "Peter… Is he still alive?"

Phoebe did not have to ask who "he" was.

Peter nodded. "He's alive and well. He left just before you got here."

"Okay." Claire bit her lip nervously. "I guess I'll see him pretty soon, won't I?"

Peter nodded, eyes steady. "Probably."

Claire took a deep breath and lifted her chin. "Okay. Good." She was obviously fighting to keep her nervousness from showing.

"How is Sasha?" Hiro asked abruptly.

"Still sleeping, I suppose," said Phoebe, feeling a bit guilty for not checking on her friend. "I'll go see." She started toward the bedroom, then turned back toward Claire, thinking that maybe the girl would feel at home in the company of other females. "Hey, Claire… You wanna come with me?"

Claire hesitated, glancing at Peter.

Peter nodded. "Go ahead."

"Alright," said Claire. She followed Phoebe into Peter's bedroom, where Sasha lay sleeping heavily.

"What happened to her?" Claire asked Phoebe quietly.

"Her fiancé was killed," Phoebe explained. "By Sylar."

"Sylar." Claire's eyes darkened. "I can't believe he's looking for me again. Peter stopped him last time, but…" She shuddered. "Peter nearly died. It was too close… And then Hiro stabbed Sylar in Kirby Plaza, but that wasn't enough either." She looked up at Phoebe, eyes wide. "I'm scared, Phoebe."

Phoebe placed a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "Me, too, Claire." She glanced at her sleeping friend, then back at Claire. "But we have to do this. We have to stop Sylar. If we don't, who knows what else he'll do. He's already killed Brad. And Lara Potter, a fifteen-year-old girl. We can't let anything like that happen again."

"Who says it's our job?" Claire wondered quietly, sadly. "Why can't we just live normal lives?"

"Because we're not normal," said Phoebe. Her lips quirked in a smile. "We're special."

Claire could not help but smile back. "Yeah. I guess so…" She glanced into the living room, where Peter and Hiro were talking animatedly. "You sound like my uncle."

"That's what your father said." Phoebe winced as soon as the words were out of her mouth. _Dang it, Phoebe._

"My father?" Claire's voice trembled. She grabbed hold of Phoebe's arm. "What do you mean?"

"I know that your real father is Nathan Petrelli," Phoebe said quietly. She shrugged. "And by this time, I'd say I know him pretty well." Impulsively, she added, "I think he really cares about you, Claire."

Claire looked away from Phoebe, her eyes distant. "Really…?"

"Phoebe?"

"Sasha!" Phoebe left Claire in the doorway to rush to her friend's bedside. "Sasha, are you alright?"

"What kind of question is that, Phoebe?" Sasha asked sharply, sitting up in Peter's bed. "Brad…" She rubbed her arms briskly, as if there were a cold inside her that she could not warm. "He's gone, Phoebs."

"I know…" said Phoebe quietly, taking her friend's hand.

Sasha turned her blind eyes to Phoebe, a fierce expression on her usually peaceful face. "Phoebe, don't let Peter go."

Phoebe blinked, confused by her friend's words. "What do you mean, Sasha?"

Sasha held up their linked hands. "I can feel it running through you, the way you care for him, the way he cares for you. It's a part of you now, something you can't erase." She squeezed Phoebe's hand tightly. "Don't let that go. Don't lose him the way I lost Brad."

"Sasha, that wasn't your--"

"Phoebe." Sasha lifted her chin. "Just listen to me. Do whatever it takes to keep him safe."

"I will," said Phoebe solemnly. "We already promised to look out for each other."

"Good." Sasha's expression softened, then crumpled. "I don't want you to wind up like me… alone…" A sob jerked through her body, and she leaned into Phoebe's proffered arms.

Over the head of her weeping friend, Phoebe met Claire's eyes. "Sylar is going down," she said firmly.

Claire nodded, eyes wide and full of determination. "I'm with you," she said. "All the way."

* * *

"Heidi, where are the kids?"

Heidi Petrelli looked up from the roses in the foyer with a frown. "Nathan, where have you _been_?"

"Where are the boys?" asked Nathan, swiftly approaching his wife in the foyer of their home.

"They're upstairs, playing." Heidi crossed her arms. "What's going on, Nathan?"

He stood there looking at her for a moment, then abruptly swept her into his arms, holding her close.

She frowned, momentarily considering breaking away. But something about the feel of his arms around her, the look in his eyes before he had hugged her made her pause. Slowly, hesitantly, she raised her arms and hugged him back. "Nathan, are you alright?" she whispered.

He nodded into her shoulder, then brushed a light kiss against the side of her neck.

Heidi froze in his arms, unsure.

"I love you," he whispered to her.

This time, she knew he meant it.

He took a deep breath then and released her.

"Nathan?" She looked at him searchingly, finding traces of a man she had once known and deeply loved.

"I'm going upstairs to see the boys," he told her, and there was something deep in his eyes, something deeper than Heidi was ready yet to go.

"Alright," she said, smiling at him uncertainly.

He leaned toward her and kissed her softly. And then he was off toward the stairs, toward their sons.

Heidi hugged herself, feeling shivery and warm at once. And suddenly, ridiculously, softly, she began to laugh.

* * *

Feeling exhilarated, strange, and quite proud of himself, Nathan stood at the door of his little brother's apartment. "Peter!" he called, knocking on the door.

"Coming!" The door was quickly opened, and Peter stood there with a strange look on his face.

Nathan frowned. "What is it, Pete?"

"Claire's here," said Peter quietly. "Hiro found her."

"Oh." Nathan lost his composure for a moment, then swiftly regained it, clearing his throat. "Well… I'm glad she's safe."

"Come in." Peter stepped back from the door, and Nathan stepped inside.

Claire was standing there in the living room, watching him enter.

"Hello, Claire," he said quietly.

"Hi." She raised a hand in a weak wave.

"Uhm, I'd better go help Phoebe and Hiro in the kitchen," said Peter quickly, making his exit.

Nathan crossed the room to stand close to Claire, who looked incredibly nervous. "So… How have you been, Claire?" he asked softly.

"Good." She nodded awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. "And you?"

"Good and bad." Nathan sighed. "I've missed you."

Claire looked up then, smiling a bit. "I've missed you, too," she said. "After what you did in Kirby Plaza…" Her voice shook. "I was… afraid you didn't make it."

"Well here I am." He held out his arms.

And suddenly, Claire was wrapping her arms around his waist. "I'm glad," she whispered.

Nathan patted her back, feeling entirely too warm and fuzzy inside. "Me, too," he said. _This is too much for you, Petrelli. You need to go out there and cut down a political enemy or two to get your life back in balance… This is altogether too warm and fuzzy._


	9. Violence and Valor

Thank-you for reading and a double thanks for reviewing!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Peter and Phoebe are interrupted in their near-kiss when Hiro and Claire knock on the door of the apartment. Peter introduces Claire and Phoebe to each other. Then Phoebe and Claire comfort Sasha, who is in grief over Brad's death. Meanwhile, Nathan has gone home and shocked his wife by kissing her and professing his love for her. He also goes to see his sons. When Nathan, feeling proud of himself, returns to Peter's apartment, he is at first awkward around Claire, then gives her a hug, feeling "warm and fuzzy" inside.

_Weird Disclaimer Restated: _The first sixteen chapters were written before I watched the Season Two finale. Anything that seems like a foreshadowing toward that extremely depressing finale is either entirely coincidental or prophetic. Take your pic. And be assured that my Season Two takes a different direction.

Lots of action coming up in this chapter!

**Chapter Nine (Violence and Valor)**

"Sylar! No!"

Phoebe jerked awake at the cry, a tremor of fear coursing through her veins. She stood up quietly and shakily from her pallet by Peter's bed, glancing quickly at Sasha who slept there. The other girl merely rolled over in her sleep, mumbling softly. Noiselessly, Phoebe crept out of the room, slipping past Claire's sleeping bag, eyes darting around as she entered the living room. Hiro was sleeping quite peacefully on the couch, and there was Peter's pallet on the floor…

Phoebe frowned. Where was Peter?

She finally spotted him huddled against the bathroom door, eyes wide with fear. Quickly and silently, she made her way to his side, kneeling beside him and taking hold of his shoulders. "Peter!" she exclaimed in a whisper. "What is it?"

He looked at her with big, terrified, sleeping eyes. "Sylar! He's here!" he gasped out.

"Wake up, Peter." Phoebe gave him a slight shake. "You're dreaming!"

A shudder ran through his body, and his eyes shut tightly. Then they opened again, and he saw her. "Phoebe…?"

"Peter… You were having a nightmare." Phoebe felt his forehead worriedly. "You're warm. Are you feeling alright?"

He nodded, taking deep breaths, obviously shaken by whatever he had dreamed.

Phoebe waited patiently for him to recover, gently stroking his hair and reaching to take his hand.

"Phoebe, I think it was another vision," he finally managed. "It was about Sylar. He was here."

Phoebe swallowed hard, suddenly quivering inside. "What happened?"

Peter shook his head. "He just… walked in and threw me aside with his power. As soon as I got to my feet, I saw that Hiro was fighting him. And you were on the floor. I think you were hurt…" He suddenly pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against him and squeezing his eyes shut. "I can't let that happen. I can't let that happen, Phoebe."

"It won't, Peter," she murmured, her lips close to his ear.

They held each other for a moment, then Peter slowly let her go. "Go back to bed, Phoebe. I'll be fine," he said gruffly.

"Wake me up if you have any more nightmares," Phoebe whispered, clinging to his hand as long as possible as she stood.

"I'll think about it," said Peter, grinning lopsidedly.

* * *

The next morning, Phoebe awoke with a feeling of profound and inexplicable fear. She sat up quickly, glancing around. Sasha was sleeping heavily on the bed. Claire was rolling over and stretching in the sleeping bag by the door.

"Claire!" Phoebe hissed.

Claire sat up blearily on one elbow. "What is it?"

"I think something's wrong…" Phoebe got up swiftly, grabbing up her blankets and draping them over Sasha's sleeping form. "Get up, but be really quiet. Something doesn't feel right…"

Nodding, Claire slipped out of her sleeping bag.

"Here are some of my clothes," said Phoebe, tossing Claire a bundle of clothing. "They'll be a bit big on you. Sorry about that."

"No problem," said Claire.

The two girls stood back to back, changing quickly.

"Come on," said Phoebe when they were finished, a tentative hand closing around the doorknob.

"Maybe I should go first," Claire whispered, wide-eyed. "I'm… kind of indestructible."

Phoebe shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm older."

Claire put her hands on her hips. "Okay, _Peter. _Move. I'm going first."

Phoebe hesitated.

"Nothing can hurt me," said Claire matter-of-factly. "Just get behind me and let me go first."

Phoebe yielded reluctantly, stepping back from the door.

Claire took the lead, slowly turning the doorknob and opening the door a crack. She peeked around the edge of the door, holding her breath. "Everything seems okay," she whispered back to Phoebe. "Hiro's still on the couch. And Peter's sleeping on the floor."

Phoebe tensed. Why had she gotten such a feeling of doom if everything was okay?

"Wait." Claire gasped.

Phoebe's heart missed a beat.

Claire quickly closed the door and spun to face the older girl. "Phoebe, there's someone else in the apartment!" she exclaimed in a frightened whisper.

"Where?" Phoebe asked quickly.

"In the kitchen, I think," Claire said. "I saw a shadow…" She bit her lip, eyes full of worry. "What do we do?"

Suddenly, there was a knock at the apartment door.

"Someone's here!" Claire squeaked. "Someone _else_!"

"This place is getting entirely too crowded for my comfort," Phoebe muttered. "Claire, we're going to have to go out there."

Claire nodded, frightened but determined. "Alright. Let's do it." She turned back to the door, taking a deep breath.

"Peter?" called a voice from outside the apartment.

"Nathan," Phoebe murmured. Maybe he could help them…

Claire hesitated, fingers hovering over the doorknob.

"Open the door, Claire," Phoebe urged her.

Claire flung open the door.

And chaos broke loose.

A tall, slim man came rushing out of the kitchen, brandishing a pistol in his hand. At the same time, Nathan burst into the apartment, Peter leaped to his feet, and Hiro tumbled from the couch.

The intruder swung around wildly, aiming his pistol first at Nathan, then at Peter, then at Hiro, then back at Nathan. "Don't move! Any of you!" he shouted, his voice cracking.

"Hey, take it easy!" Nathan replied, holding up his hands.

Phoebe reached out with her power, grabbing for the intruder's gun with her mind.

The man turned his gaze to her, laughing. "I'm afraid that won't work with me, sweetheart."

Hiro hopped to his feet, his face twisting in concentration.

"That won't work either, little man," the intruder laughed. "Everybody move over here, by the door. And do it now."

Phoebe and Claire moved shakily across the room, joining the men at the wall.

"Now. Which one of you fellas is Peter Petrelli?"

"That's me." Peter glanced at Phoebe, then took a step forward.

_Oh, God… Don't let this be happening… _As she silently prayed, Phoebe felt Claire take her left hand and Hiro her right.

"What do you want from me?" Peter asked, standing straight.

"You're coming with me, pal," said the man with the pistol, taking a step forward.

"No one's going anywhere!" Nathan exclaimed, moving forward.

"Hey!" The man swung his gun back around to aim at Nathan. "Back against the wall, buddy."

Nathan flashed his brother an agonized look, then moved slowly back against the wall.

"How you block our powers?" Hiro asked, frowning pitifully.

"That's for me to know and you to never find out," the intruder chuckled. He reached out and grabbed hold of Peter's arm. "Now come on." He dragged Peter toward the door. "If any of you tries to follow me…" He shoved the barrel of his gun against Peter's head. "Bang. He's dead." Then he turned toward the door, releasing his hold on Peter to grab the doorknob.

Peter moved instantly, grabbing hold of the man's gun arm and jerking.

The pistol went flying through the air. Phoebe, Claire, Nathan, and Hiro all dove for it, and the weapon landed in the unlikely hands of Hiro Nakamura.

Hiro quickly raised the gun and pointed it at the attacker. "Put your hands up," he commanded, his own hands shaking.

The tall man started to raise his hands, then grinned, swiftly reaching into his pocket and producing yet another pistol. He aimed it quickly at Hiro. "You pull your trigger, I pull mine, little man."

Peter moved toward him, but the intruder was ready this time, spinning to aim his gun at Peter. "Not so fast, buddy. You're coming with me."

They all stood still in Peter's living room, frozen in a macabre tableau.

"Phoebe!"

Phoebe glanced over Claire's head at Nathan, eyes questioning.

"When I go for his arms, go for his legs," Nathan told her through his teeth. "Got it?"

Terrified, Phoebe nodded. "Okay."

"Hey! What's going on over there?" Still aiming at Peter, the tall man turned his gaze on the others.

That was when Nathan chose to move. He darted forward, grabbing for the attacker's gun arm. Phoebe took her cue and flung herself across the floor at the man's legs. For one brief, satisfactory moment, the plan went perfectly. The attacker flew backward, his pistol going off harmlessly, the bullet lodging in the ceiling. Nathan landed on top of his body, and Phoebe landed on his legs.

_Ha! We did it! _Phoebe found herself grinning as she sat on top of the man's legs. She looked up to see Sasha rushing blindly into the room.

"What's going on?" Sasha cried.

"Just stay there!" Phoebe ordered her friend.

Then, suddenly, the man beneath her seemed to gain a burst of strength. Roaring like a wounded animal, he shoved Phoebe and Nathan backward, sliding out from beneath them and jumping to his feet, aiming his gun at Nathan. Nathan froze in a kneel, eyes wary.

"Nathan! No!" screamed Peter, rushing forward as the intruder pulled the trigger.

But Claire got there first, flinging herself across the room, throwing her body in front of Nathan's. With a gasp of pain, she collapsed to the floor, one shoulder leaking blood.

Hiro rushed forward then, shakily pulling the trigger of the gun he held. The bullet went wide of the intruder, and he ducked.

"Claire!" Nathan and Peter cried.

Phoebe sprawled on the floor, eyes wide in horror at the sight she saw. The intruder was stretched across the floor, obviously dead. Nathan was bending over a bloody Claire while Peter stood over them both protectively.

With a cry of frustration and anger, Nathan leaped to his feet and snatched the gun out of Hiro's hand, firing two bullets into the chest of the man who had shot his daughter. The attacker managed one strangled cry before collapsing to the floor.

For a moment, there was no sound save for shaky, ragged breathing.

Then Nathan tossed the pistol back to Hiro and knelt on the floor to gather Claire into his arms.

"Claire… You can heal?" asked Hiro, coming forward and tucking the pistol into the waist of his pajama pants.

"I don't know…" Claire frowned, closing her eyes. "Something's wrong…"

"That man… He was blocking our powers." Nathan nodded toward the dead man on the floor, then bowed his head over Claire protectively.

Peter rushed over to the body, searching it frantically. "He didn't have any powers. It must be some device… Ah!" He jerked a metallic armband from the corpse's arm. "I can feel something coming from this thing." He straightened and stalked to one of the windows, a determined look on his face. He quickly opened the window and tossed the armband downward with all his might, so that it shattered on the pavement below. Then he spun back around and returned to where the others crowded around Claire.

"Are you going to be alright?" Nathan asked his daughter quietly.

She nodded, glancing down at her shoulder. "I can already feel my power coming back," she told him breathlessly.

"Why--why did you do that?" Nathan asked her hoarsely.

She smiled up at him softly, eyelids drooping, before her eyes finally closed, and she sank into an exhausted sleep.

Nathan gently lifted her in his arms and set her down on the couch, kneeling beside her and watching her sleep.

Sasha moved awkwardly across the room. "Where is the girl?" she asked quietly.

"I show you," said Hiro. He hurried to Sasha's side and took her hand, leading her to Claire's side.

Sasha bent down and laid a soft hand on Claire's shoulder. Then she smiled. "She's completely healed," she said softly.

Nathan bowed his head and closed his eyes, sighing with relief.

Peter bent to pat his brother's back, then turned to face Phoebe, his eyes intense and haunted. "I got it wrong, Phoebe," he said quietly.

"What do you mean?" She came to his side and wrapped an arm around his waist.

"My dream last night, my vision," he told her, pressing a kiss on her forehead and smoothing her hair down her back. "I dreamed it was Sylar who came in and attacked us, but…" He motioned to the dead man. "It was him." He frowned. "Who is… I mean, who _was_ he?"

They all looked down at the body on the floor.

"I bet he work with big man," Hiro suggested.

"Then where did he get that armband?" Peter wondered. "The first man didn't have one."

"Maybe armband is new," said Hiro with a shrug.

"Looks like you're next, Nathan," said Peter with a wry grin.

Nathan looked up at his brother with a frown. "What do you mean?"

"First time we got attacked, they shot me. This time, they shot Claire." He shrugged. "It seems to be a genetic thing, bullet catching. I'm willing to bet you're next."

"Great," Nathan muttered, shooting his brother a dark glance.

"I hope _none _of us are next," Phoebe muttered, leaning into Peter's shoulder.

"If we stop Sylar _and _other villains, we will be alright," said Hiro, brightly.


	10. Seven Sketches

A smiley for all readers and reviewers:)

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Phoebe comforts Peter after he has a horrifying nightmare about Sylar. She wakes up the next morning with an uneasy feeling. She and Claire spot an intruder in Peter's apartment. The intruder reveals himself at the same time Nathan bursts in, waking up Peter and Hiro. The intruder has a gun--and a bracelet that somehow blocks the heroes' powers. He attempts to kidnap Peter, but is foiledf by Nathan and Phoebe, who fling themselves at him. Hiro winds up with the gun, but the attacker has a second weapon. He takes a shot at Nathan, but Claire flings herself in front of her bio-dad, taking the bullet in her shoulder. Nathan snatches the gun from Hiro and takes the attacker down, then rushes to Claire. Peter destroys the powers-blocking bracelet, freeing Claire to heal herself. Peter jokes that bullet-catching is in the family and Nathan will be next. (Yes, I wrote that before the evil Season Two finale. Not to give anything away, but like I've said before, my Season Two is quite a bit different from the actual Season Two.)

**Chapter Ten (Seven Sketches)**

"Yeah, I think this guy was definitely working with the first one." Peter laid the two pistols on the coffee table. "Same kind of pistol."

"But new armband," Hiro added, frowning and pushing up his glasses on his nose.

Peter glanced at the little Asian man. "Yeah, I'm kind of worried about that."

"I wonder how that thing worked," said Nathan from where he sat on the couch, holding Claire's head and shoulders in his lap. He shot Peter a sharp glance. "Maybe if you hadn't thrown it out the window, we could have gotten a good look at it."

Peter held up his hands defensively. "Hey, if I hadn't thrown the thing out, we may never have gotten our powers back."

"I know, Pete." Nathan rubbed his eyes wearily with one hand. "You did the right thing."

"We're not safe here anymore," Phoebe spoke up, drawing her knees up to her chest and hugging them tightly. "We're not safe anywhere, are we?"

"How do they keep finding us like this?" Peter wondered aloud, his voice tinged with frustration.

"They could have easily followed us into Phoebe's hotel," Nathan suggested. "And as to finding you here…" He shrugged. "Maybe they've been watching us for sometime. I don't know."

"Why do they always send just one person?" Peter questioned, pacing. "It's obviously not working."

"Hopefully, they won't learn from that mistake," Nathan said quietly.

"So… Where we going to go?" Hiro asked worriedly.

"We can't run," said Peter, lifting his chin. "We have to stop Sylar. And if these people keep coming after us…" He put his hands on his hips, dark brows lowered. "We'll have to stop them, too."

"Peter, I think we should get Claire out of this," said Nathan quietly, steadily. "And Phoebe and Sasha, too."

Sasha's lips quirked in a wry smile. "Good luck with that one. Phoebe's one of the most stubborn people I know, and I'm afraid I'm not letting her out of my… sight."

"So… You wouldn't consider hiding out for awhile, Phoebe?" Nathan asked her.

Phoebe looked up, meeting his eyes, then looked at Peter, who was watching her closely. "No. Not if the rest of you are in danger. I won't leave you."

Peter closed his eyes, a pained look crossing his face.

"Peter, I'll be alright," she told him softly. "I can handle this."

"So can I," a sleepy voice chimed in.

"Claire--" Nathan started.

"Forget talking me out of it," Claire told him, sitting up and shaking out her tangled blond hair. "I'm actually the one in the least danger. Remember?" She crossed her arms. "You're the one who gets it next, according to Peter. Yes, I heard that."

"Yes, and you no able to heal like other two, Flying Man," Hiro pointed out.

"Thanks for reminding me," Nathan replied dryly.

Phoebe studied Nathan carefully, suddenly realizing something. "Nathan… Don't you have work to do? As a congressman, I mean."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "That's all taken care of. As of now, I am on a charity trip with my little brother and some of his friends. Heidi's handling details for me."

_Hmm… So perhaps their relationship is improving? _"Cool," said Phoebe. "So." She released her knees and sat up straighter. "We're taking the fight to Sylar and these other people. Am I right?"

Peter nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

"But… How we fight them if we cannot find them?" Hiro asked.

Peter lifted his chin, lips pressed together, eyes intense. "I can use some of my skills--look at the past, paint the future…"

"And I can travel to past and find them!" Hiro exclaimed excitedly.

Peter nodded. "I think we'll be able to find these people."

"Yes, but at what cost?" Nathan asked quietly. "Hiro's power is unpredictable. It's a wonder he even found Claire. And you…" He sighed. "Peter, you can't always handle your powers."

"Nathan…" Peter steadily held his brother's eyes, his voice low. "What other choice do we have?"

Nathan was quiet for a moment, looking intensely at Peter, as if searching for something in his younger brother's eyes. Then, slowly, he nodded. "You're right. We have to use our powers to find Sylar and to stop him. And this… unknown factor as well."

Peter smiled slowly, crookedly, at his brother. "Good. Let's do it."

Hiro grinned excitedly. "Where we start?"

"Well for one thing, we have to be careful about being followed," said Nathan. "This… mysterious group seems to be very good at following us."

"So we should probably split up," Phoebe said.

The others looked at her curiously. "I know it's a bad idea in all the movies, and everyone gets killed after they split up, but…" She grinned wryly. "This is real life. I think we'll be much harder to follow if we spread out, heading in different directions. Or something like that." She bit her lip nervously, hoping she was not sounding like an idiot.

"I think Phoebe has a good idea," said Nathan, leaning forward, eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise.

"Of course she does," Peter replied, crossing his arms and grinning at her, as if to say, "That's my girl."

"How we going to split up?" Hiro asked.

"There are six of us," said Peter, obviously excited about the whole thing. "An even number. We can split up into two groups of three. Or three groups of two."

"The more groups the better," Nathan said. "Let's go with three groups of two."

"So who goes with who?" Peter wondered.

Nathan shrugged, looking down at his hands. Phoebe got the idea that he had something in mind, but did not want to say it.

"I think a guy needs to go with each girl," Peter suggested gallantly. "I mean, not to be too old-fashioned or anything, but…" He held up his hands. "That just seems safer to me."

Phoebe smiled up at him. "I like old-fashioned."

"That's a good idea, Pete." Nathan nodded. "Let's go with that." He glanced at his daughter, and Phoebe realized instantly that this was exactly what he had been mulling over in his mind. "Claire, do you mind going with me?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head, her pretty face expressionless. Phoebe wondered how she felt about pairing off with the father she barely knew…

"Phoebe?" Peter held out his hand.

Grinning, Phoebe stood and moved to his side, taking his hand.

"Sasha, you go with me?" Hiro asked the blind girl.

She smiled softly, sadly. "Yes. I like you, Hiro."

"Good." Hiro grinned.

"So it's settled." Nathan stood. "Now. We've got to start somewhere, so…" He looked at his brother. "Peter… Why don't you draw us a picture?"

* * *

Phoebe watched worriedly, arms crossed, as Peter stood bent over his table, sketching. His face was pale, his eyes glazed over strangely, and a fine sheen of sweat glistened on his face. So far, she did not have a clue what he was sketching. It looked like… lines. And circles…

"What's he got so far?" asked Nathan, coming up behind her in the kitchen.

Phoebe shrugged. "I don't know." She turned to face the politician. "Nathan, he looks so worn out. I don't know if this--"  
"Is such a good idea. Me either." Nathan stood with his hands on his hips, watching Peter with a frown. "But what else can we do?" He met Phoebe's eyes with a wry smile. "And could we stop him if we tried?"

Phoebe and Nathan stood there for a moment in silence, two pairs of anxious eyes fixed on the slender form of Peter Petrelli.

Then, suddenly, Peter stepped back from the table, shaking his head as if to clear it.

"Peter!" Phoebe exclaimed, moving to his side. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah…" He blinked quickly, then reached to squeeze her shoulder. "I'm fine. I saw…" He turned his eyes to the paper on the table. "Phoebe, look."

Phoebe looked down at the paper, and her eyes widened. "Oh my gosh."

"What is it?" Nathan came up behind his brother and Phoebe, peering over their shoulders.

"Peter… Is that me?" Phoebe asked, pointing to a figure in the picture.

"And that's… me, right?" asked Nathan, pointing to another.

"I think so," said Peter, meeting their questioning gazes.

"And who is that poor person on the other side of that door?" Phoebe asked quietly, looking once again at the picture. The crude figures of her and Nathan were placed on the outside of a metal door, banging on it, their faces twisted in desperation. Through a window on the door, a third figure could be seen, but just barely. This person was stretching out a bloody hand to the glass, as if reaching for Nathan and Phoebe.

Peter swallowed, dark eyes wide. "I think that's me."

"Well where _are _we?" Nathan asked, snatching up the paper to take a closer look.

Peter shrugged. "I don't know. That's--that's all I saw."

Nathan glanced sharply at his brother. "And you were concentrating on Sylar?"

Peter nodded. "I was." He sighed. "I tried, Nathan."

"I know, Pete. Settle down." Nathan laid the picture back on the table. "It looks like some sort of storage facility."

"That's what I thought, too," said Phoebe. She bit her lip as she looked at Peter's portrayal of himself--trapped and bloody. She looked up at Peter, eyes wide. "I don't think I want this to happen."

"Me neither." Peter shuddered.

"Maybe you should take a break, baby," said Phoebe tenderly, reaching to touch his arm.

Behind her, she heard Nathan choke and clear his throat in an attempt to hide a laugh. It took her a moment to realize what had startled and amused him. Then she knew that he had caught the way she called Peter "baby."

"I can't take a break, Phoebe," said Peter, seeming not to have noticed. "I have to find out where Sylar is. And where this… other enemy is. And what happens to all of us." He glanced down at the ominous sketch, eyebrows drawn together with worry.

"Are you sure about this, Peter?" Nathan asked, crossing his arms and frowning.

"Yes, I'm sure," said Peter firmly.

"Alright." Nathan glanced at Phoebe, who was biting her lip nervously. "Look, I'm going to show this picture to the others." He took up the paper once again. "Phoebe--you keep an eye on him while I'm not here, alright?"

Phoebe nodded. "I will."

"Peter, take it easy, buddy," Nathan admonished his younger brother as he exited the kitchen.

"You're gonna listen to him, right?" asked Phoebe, hands on her hips.

Peter grinned crookedly. "Maybe."

Phoebe took a blank sheet of paper from the top of the stack on the table, laying it out in front of Peter. "Alright then." She met his eyes. "Be careful, okay?"

"I will," said Peter, reaching for the colored pencils.

"Would it help if I left?" Phoebe asked him. "Last time Nathan and I were standing right behind you, and you drew the three of us."

"Don't leave me, Phoebe," said Peter, turning to face her, eyes intense.

She swallowed, nodding quickly, shaken to the core by the intensity in his eyes when he looked at her. "Okay." Smiling, she rubbed his back gently. "I'm right here."

His lips quirked in a half grin. "I know. You always are." Then, abruptly, he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers, drawing a deep, shaky breath.

They stood that way for a few brief seconds, her arm around him, their foreheads touching, their eyes closed, their breaths coming in unison. Then Peter sighed unsteadily and turned to the blank sheet on the table. "Here goes nothing," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them, they were heavily glazed, not seeing the small kitchen, not seeing Phoebe.

Phoebe bit her lip, watching closely as he moved the pencils on the paper. Soon, she could see that he was drawing a person, a man. Slowly, the character took form. Though Peter's style was rudimentary, it was clear, and Phoebe thought the man in the sketch was beginning to look familiar…

"Sylar," she whispered as Peter finished drawing their enemy's eyes. She could see a definite resemblance between the man on the paper and the imprint left by Lara Potter on the Potter's TV screen. Soon the picture was nearly finished. The face of Sylar stared out at Phoebe from the paper. In his hand he held a paintbrush. Phoebe gasped with shock as she realized that in the sketch, Sylar was painting a picture of Peter--and in Sylar's picture, Peter was sketching Sylar.

"Peter!" Phoebe exclaimed.

Peter shut his eyes, the pencil falling from his trembling fingers. When he opened his eyes, they were clear once again. "What is it?" he asked Phoebe breathlessly.

"Look!" Phoebe pointed frantically to the picture he had sketched.

Peter took it in his hands, staring at it with shocked eyes. "We--we're looking for each other…"

"Oh, gosh, Peter! Do you think he could have found us?"

"I don't think so." Shaking his head, Peter set the picture back on the table. "There's nothing in the picture he's painting to give him a clue about where we are." Then his dark eyebrows raised.

"What is it?" Phoebe asked.

"I think maybe we have a clue to where _he _is," said Peter, turning to meet her eyes.

"What is it?"

"Look." Peter pointed to the rough sketch of a window right behind the malevolent figure of Sylar. "I know that building outside the window. I think that's Anderson Mall."

"Anderson… Mall?" Phoebe asked, her voice raising slightly in pitch.

Peter nodded. "Anderson Mall. I think maybe that's the mall we were dreaming about."

Briefly, Phoebe felt faint and vague, as if she could just collapse to the floor and cease to be. "Peter, those weren't good dreams. They were _bad _dreams," she whispered, green eyes wide.

"I know," said Peter quietly.

"Peter… That other picture you drew…" She reached out impulsively and took his face gently between her hands. "That door… I think it was to a shopping mall storage room. And you--you were hurt. I don't want--I don't want--" She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly tight, her words getting caught in a jumble on her tongue. "I don't want that to happen to you. I can't--" Groaning, she released his face and leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Oh, Phoebe." His arms came around her, warm and strong. "It's gonna be alright. I promise." He held her for a moment, then gently drew back from her, brushing a strand of her red-gold hair away from her face. "We're looking out for each other, remember?"

She nodded, wishing she was able to look away from his beautiful eyes. Maybe then she would not be so worried for him; because looking into his eyes, she saw the way he loved, sacrificially and completely. And it scared her.

"Peter? Phoebe?" Hiro walked into the kitchen then, oblivious to the emotional exchange between the two. "You have another picture ready?"

Peter held up the new sketch. "I think I've found Sylar."

"Ah! Good!" Hiro's adorable grin was enough to make even Phoebe smile. He crossed the kitchen floor excitedly and took the picture from Peter's hand. "This last picture?"

Peter shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "I'd like to do a few more."

"Okay. I take this to show everybody." Hiro went excitedly from the room.

Phoebe turned to Peter with a questioning frown. "Peter, you don't think we have enough?"

He shook his head gravely. "No. We need to find out where Hiro's 'big man' and his group are. And…" He looked away from her. "There's something else I'd like to find out. Well, a lot of things, really."

"Peter, you're going to wear yourself out," said Phoebe in exasperation. She sighed. Where was Nathan Petrelli when you needed the man? Maybe _he _could talk sense into Peter. "You're still weak from the… explosion."

Peter met her eyes then, brows lowered. "I know. But I'm not gonna let that stop me. I've got to do something useful, Phoebe. I don't want to feel worthless."

"You're not, Peter Petrelli." Phoebe placed a hand on his chest, and the feel of his heartbeat beneath her palm was both soothing and stirring. "You've already saved the world once, you know."

"And I have to do it again," he whispered, placing his hand over hers. "Please… Don't be scared for me."

"I can't promise you that," Phoebe replied quietly.

* * *

"Phoebe."

Phoebe turned around to see Nathan walking back into the kitchen. "Oh. Hi." She yawned involuntarily.

"You want me to take over for you?" he asked, joining her at the counter.

Phoebe shook her head, her eyes going back to Peter, who was sketching frantically. "No. I'm fine. Really."

"If you say so." Nathan gave her a disbelieving look. "You've been cooped up in this kitchen for hours." He crossed his arms and fixed his eyes on Peter. "So… How many pictures has he done?"  
"He's on the sixth now," said Phoebe. "There's only one piece of paper left after this one. If he wants to sketch more, we'll have to get more paper."

"What has he sketched so far?"

"You've seen the one of the three of us," said Phoebe, shuddering at the thought of that sketch. "And the one of Sylar painting Peter sketching Sylar and so on." Another shudder. "After that, he's done another one of Sylar, holding the world in his hands and starting to crush it. That big man who attacked us in the hotel is standing in the background, watching him. Then there's one of…" She blushed and bit her lip, looking down at her shoes. "One of me and him holding hands by a fountain at the mall."

"Naturally." Nathan raised his eyebrows, fixing her with a grin.

"There's one of you and Claire in a taxi, and I think the one he's working on is of Hiro and Sasha. I'm not sure where they are yet."

"Do you think he'll do a seventh?" Nathan asked curiously.

"I don't know." Phoebe sighed. "I wish he'd stop. He's wearing himself out."

"I know." Nathan narrowed his eyes on his brother's back.

"He's like that, isn't he?" asked Phoebe softly. "He thinks about everyone else before he thinks about Peter."

"Yeah. That's him." Nathan sighed. "That's my brother."

Suddenly, Peter dropped the pencil he was holding, gasping.

"Peter? Are you alright?" Phoebe moved quickly across the room to stand at his side.

"I'm--I'm fine," he assured her shakily, meeting her worried gaze. His eyes were wide and feverishly bright, his face pale. "This one's done now." He pushed the sixth picture across the table.

Phoebe quickly glanced down at it. The figures of Hiro and Sasha were standing on a sidewalk, their mouths open and arms raised, as if they were calling to someone. "Interesting… You've sketched all six of us now."

Peter nodded, running a hand across his pale face. "I've just got one more to finish."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Pete," said Nathan, coming forward. "You don't look so great."

Peter shook his head. "Don't try to talk me out of it, Nathan. There's something I have to know."

Nathan pressed his lips together, working his jaw. "Peter…"

"Nathan, take Phoebe to the living room. I need to draw this one alone."

Phoebe frowned, hands on her hips. "Peter, what do you mean?"

"This is personal, Phoebe," said Peter. "I need to know."

"Need to know what?" she whispered.

"Nathan." Peter shot his brother an imploring look.

"Come on, Phoebe," said Nathan, taking her arm and keeping his eyes fixed on his brother's face.

"Nathan!" Phoebe tried to jerk her arm away from his, but the attempt failed. She turned her eyes to Peter. "Peter, what are you doing?"

"Don't worry, Phoebe. Just go with Nathan. I'll--I'll show you later." That scary, powerful look was back in his eyes, and Phoebe wanted to cry.

"Come on, Phoebe," said Nathan again, his voice softer this time.

She nodded slowly. "Peter… Be careful," she whispered

"I will," he said quietly. He kept his eyes on her as Nathan led her out of the room.


	11. Zigzagging

Thanks to my readers and reviewers. Let me know if I'm updating too fast, and I'll slow down a bit so you can save your eyes, lol. I've got twenty-two chapters typed so far, and counting, so... this is not quite the halfway point.

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _The heroes decide to split up and look for Sylar, but before they carry out this plan, Peter volunteers to attempt sketching the future. First, he does six pre-cog sketches: one of Sylar painting him (which reveals the fact that Sylar is near Anderson Mall), one of Sylar destroying the world, one of Nathan and Claire in a taxi, one of Hiro and Sasha on a sidewalk, one of Peter and Phoebe standing by a fountain, and one that freaks out Phoebe and Nathan. This sixth sketch is of Phoebe and Nathan trying to get through a big, metal door. Through the window of the door, Peter is visible, stretching his hand toward Phoebe and Nathan--and he is covered in blood. In spite of Phoebe and Nathan's concern for Peter's health, Peter insists on doing a seventh sketch, but before starting it, he talks Nathan into taking Phoebe out of the room. For some reason, he wants to draw this one alone...

**Chapter Eleven (Zigzagging)**

Peter stared down at the seventh sketch, drawing a deep breath. As if overtaxing his powers was not enough, the content of this picture made him weak in the knees. "Phoebe can't see this," he muttered to himself, picking it up and beginning to fold it. "She'll try to stop me." He shoved the sketch into his pocket, resolved. Phoebe would not see the sketch. Nathan would not see the sketch. No one would see the seventh sketch. Peter had to do what he had to do. And he wanted no one to try to stop him.

As he turned to leave the kitchen, an intense feeling of fear and sorrow washed over him, and he paused, one hand on the counter, eyes closed. He thought of Phoebe, thought of Nathan, thought of Claire… _You can't turn back now, Peter. You know what you have to do. This is for _them.

Peter lifted his head and opened his eyes, walking out of the kitchen with determination.

"Peter?" Phoebe, seated on the couch beside Hiro, instantly turned to him.

"I'm fine," he assured her falsely. He felt acutely dizzy and weak. _Phoebe doesn't need to know that. _He took another step and completely blew that thought out the window as he swayed and nearly stumbled.

Nathan was quickly on his feet beside his brother, taking Peter's arm firmly. "Think you overdid it, Pete?" he asked, leading his younger brother to sit between Phoebe and Hiro on the couch.

Peter shook his head as Nathan helped him sit without collapsing. "I had to know," he said, shocked at the weakness of his own voice.

"I'll go get you something to drink," Nathan said quickly, hurrying into the kitchen.

"Peter, are you alright?" Claire asked from where she stood by the door, eyes full of worry.

Peter nodded. For a moment, he tried to hold his breath so no one would hear how ragged his breathing sounded, but that only resulted in a nasty cough. "I'm fine," he said hoarsely.

"You not convincing me," said Hiro, peering at his friend with anxious eyes.

"Or me."

Peter turned to Phoebe with a sheepish smile.

"Sit back, Peter. Relax." She placed firm but gentle hands on his shoulders and ease him back against the couch, close to her comforting warmth and softness. Then her hands began to move, fingers massaging his shoulders with glorious natural skill.

"That's nice, Phoebe, really nice…" Peter leaned back his head and closed his eyes.

"What did you see?" Phoebe asked him softly.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. "I can't tell you now."

Her hands paused on his shoulders, her big green eyes full of concern. "Peter…"

"You'll know later. I promise."

She nodded, her smile tight, and her hands continued their circular motions.

"Here you go, Pete." Nathan knelt in front of him, carrying a tall glass of chocolate milk. "Don't you have anything stronger than this?"

Peter grinned crookedly and shook his head as he took the glass from his brother. "No. Sorry, Nathan."

"Well drink up." Nathan patted his little brother's knee. He was obviously trying to cover up the intense worry he felt for Peter. "I think we're going to have a busy night tonight."

* * *

"We'll meet you all at Anderson Mall," Sasha told the others as she walked toward the door of Peter's apartment, trailing Hiro with her cane.

"Make sure and take a different route from ours, Hiro," Nathan called to his friend.

Hiro saluted him. "Yes, sir, Flying Man!"

Nathan grinned, then turned to his brother. "Don't take a straight path. Zigzag a little. Hop in and out of a few cabs…" He placed his hands on Peter's shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes. "And Pete… Don't do anything stupid."

Peter fought down a sarcastic comment. "Okay, Nathan," he managed, lips twitching.

"Good." Nathan slapped his brother's arm, glancing around him at Phoebe. "Take care of him, Phoebe."

"I will." Phoebe tossed him a saucy grin.

"Be careful, Peter." Claire maneuvered around Nathan to throw her arms around Peter, her eyes and voice clearly conveying her worry for him.

"I will, Claire. You be careful, too." He glanced at his brother with a wry smile. "And take care of Nathan for me, will ya?"

"Sure thing." Claire nodded against his chest, then turned to look up at Nathan. With a stubborn look on her face, she held out her arm. "Group hug," she said quietly, firmly.

Nathan hesitated, looking askance at his daughter and brother. Then, finally, he sighed and walked into the circle of their arms.

Phoebe stood back a little from the Petrellis, her throat tight at their show of affection. Even Nathan was in on it… And of course, Peter and Claire…

"Hey, Phoebe. Come on." Peter motioned to her, dark eyes twinkling.

"Alright." Feeling slightly awkward and more than a bit childish, Phoebe moved to his side and was soon welcomed by three pairs of arms. She was instantly overwhelmed by an intense feeling of belonging. _This feels… natural--right, _she thought as she stood embraced by Petrellis--legitimate and otherwise.

"I love you guys," Claire whispered to the other three.

"I love you, too!" a high-pitched voice exclaimed as Hiro wrapped his arms around the group.

Phoebe could not help it. She giggled. It was just so absurd. And cute. Too cute.

Oddly, it was Nathan who started laughing next. Phoebe thought she heard him mutter something about "warm and fuzzy."

Then the others started laughing as well.

"We love you, too, Hiro," Peter managed between laughs.

Finally, Sasha, standing by the door, called, "I don't know _what _you guys are doing over there, but… We've got a world to save, right?"

The circle of friends and family slowly broke apart, and they all stood there grinning at each other.

"Wow. That was cheesy," said Nathan dryly.

Peter had managed to keep an arm around Phoebe's shoulders. "Shut up, Nathan," he shot back at his brother teasingly. "You know you liked it."

Nathan rolled his eyes. Phoebe noticed that Claire was keeping a sharp watch on her birth father's face, almost as if she were desperate for some sign of humanity from him. _It's there, Claire, _she thought hard at the girl. _You've just got to be patient with him. _

"Come on, Hiro!" called Sasha, motioning to the little Asian teleporter with her cane.

"Coming, Sasha!" Hiro called in reply, jogging to the blind girl's side.

By this time, Nathan and Claire had already brushed past the others and were moving toward the door. "Remember the plan," Nathan admonished the rest of the group. "We comb the mall, then meet up by the fountain in the center."

"Got it," said Peter with a nod.

"Got it," Hiro repeated in a subconscious mimic of Peter's voice.

"Good," said Nathan, reaching to open the door. As soon as the door swung open, he stepped backward into the room, eyes wide.

Claire moved around him. "Dad?"

A tall man with horn-rimmed glasses stepped into the apartment of Peter Petrelli. "Claire, you're coming home with me," he announced gravely.

"What? No!" Claire exclaimed, drawing back from the man.

Phoebe tugged on Peter's arm. "Peter, what's going on?"

"That's Claire's adopted father," Peter explained quietly. "I guess he's here to take Claire back."

"Peter?" Claire's father cast his gaze toward the younger man.

"Noah." Peter nodded to him. "Good to see you again."

"Glad you're alive and well," said Noah Bennet.

"Thanks," said Peter, sounding a bit overwhelmed.

"Dad, I'm not leaving them to do this alone," Claire spoke up, interrupting the exchange between Peter and Noah.

"Claire, I won't have you getting hurt," the man with the horn-rimmed glasses insisted.

"In case you've forgotten, that can't happen," said Claire.

Noah glanced over her head at Nathan. "You'd let her go into danger like this?"

Nathan cleared his throat nervously. "Well… I've seen her power in action, so I know she can't be injured. And… well…" He held up his hands. "I can't really stop her. Believe me, I've tried."

"Dad…" Claire reached out and took hold of Noah's arm. "Let me go with them. Please."

Everyone was quiet while Noah hesitated. Finally, he sighed. "Alright. I'll let you do it." He held up a hand before Claire could speak. "But _only _if I get to come along with you."

"Oh! Thanks, Dad!" Claire flung her arms around him. "You're so great!"

"You… don't have any powers, do you?" Nathan asked him, one eyebrow raised.

"No," said Noah, wrapping protective arms around Claire.

"Aren't you a little… afraid?" asked Nathan.

Noah shook his head. "As long as Claire's safe, I'm ready to face anything."

The two men stared at each other for awhile, then Nathan said, "Bennet, you're with me and Claire."

* * *

Phoebe and Peter moved arm in arm along the sidewalk, a chill wind whipping their hair around their faces and tugging at their long jackets. Despite the fact that they were going into almost certain danger, Phoebe felt exhilarated and oddly at peace. Something about strolling the streets of New York City with Peter Petrelli was simply wonderful and simply right.

"Come on," said Peter, giving her arm a tug and pulling her into a narrow alley. His face was lit by a crooked smile.

"What are you doing?" Phoebe laughed, cheeks flushed from the cold and from the feelings Peter inspired in her.

"Nathan said to zigzag!" Peter teased, breaking into a jog. The cool air had obviously breathed energy back into him, though his eyes still retained a feverish glint.

Phoebe giggled and ran with him down the alley. They emerged from the alley across from a familiar place. "Hey! That's the coffee shop!"

"That's right," said Peter. "I thought maybe you'd like to get something to drink before we hit the mall."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow at him as he led her across the street toward the coffee shop, which was lit up brightly among the evening shadows. _What is this, Peter Petrelli? Are you trying to take me on a date? Wow. This certainly is trying to kill two birds with one stone--a first date and saving the world from a madman!_

But as soon as they approached the door to the coffee shop, things changed.

"Phoebe. Stop walking." Peter's voice was suddenly harsh, and his eyes narrowed on the coffee shop windows.

"What is it?" Phoebe hissed, her insides twisting with apprehension.

"Sylar!" Peter exclaimed. He drew her close to him in a quick, desperate motion.

"We have to get out of here!" Phoebe exclaimed in a whisper. _Peter, are you out of your mind? We're just standing here--and Sylar is in that coffee shop!_

"It's okay," said Peter quietly. "We're invisible."

"What!?" Phoebe exclaimed.

Peter quickly spun her around so that her back was flush against his chest, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Sh!" he whispered in her ear. "Sylar has really good hearing."

She nodded against his hand, suddenly conscious of her heavy breathing and trying to control it.

"Here he comes," Peter whispered. "The man in the baseball cap. Be very still."

She nodded again, closing her eyes for a moment in silent prayer. When she opened them, she saw a man walking out of the coffee shop--and that man was Sylar. Her eyes widened, and every instinct in her body urged her to flee. Ever so slightly, Peter tightened his hold on her defensively, and she let his warm presence soothe her shaken spirit as Sylar walked out onto the sidewalk, standing only a few feet away from them.

Sylar closed his dark, angry eyes, standing incredibly still, as if concentrating. His whole being seemed packed with power and a barely contained rage, which completely destroyed Phoebe's sense of safety.

_Relax, Phoebe._

Phoebe's eyes widened even further at the sound of Peter's low, intense voice in her mind.

_Try to hold your breath._

Phoebe slowly and quietly drew in a breath and held it, willing her heart to quiet its beating.

Sylar turned and looked directly at Phoebe and Peter.

Phoebe started to tremble.

Peter pressed his face close to hers, his eyelashes tickling her temple.

Sylar frowned, as if confused. Then he shook his head and began to walk away.

Phoebe waited for a cue from Peter as Sylar disappeared into the city. Her body ached with tension. She wanted so badly to scream.

Finally, Peter moved, slowly walking to the side of the coffee shop, out of view of the customers, out of view of Sylar. He kept his hold on Phoebe, arms wrapped tightly around her waist, as he leaned back against the wall of the coffee shop, dragging in heavy, ragged breaths.

"Are we--are we still invisible?" Phoebe whispered breathlessly, looking up at him.

Peter closed his eyes, then quickly opened them. "Not now."

"That was--that was close." Phoebe leaned back against Peter, her entire body trembling. "But hey… Even if he _had _heard us, or seen us, you would have been more than a match for him, right?" She reached up to touch his face gently.

Peter shook his head. "I don't know, Phoebe. He hasn't exploded any time within the last few weeks."

"Hiro stabbed him, though," she reminded him.

"True." Peter winced and leaned his head back against the brick wall.

"You alright?" Phoebe asked him quickly, worrying fluttering coldly in her stomach.

He nodded. "Just… worn out." Then he smiled crookedly. "And scared out of my mind."

"Yeah… That was rough…" Phoebe nodded in agreement.

Peter suddenly tightened his hold on her, burying his face in her neck, one hand leaving her waist to intertwine in her hair. "Phoebe, I was so scared he would find us and something would happen to you…"

Warm tenderness rushed through Phoebe's body and soul at his words. And here she had thought he had been scared for himself! He had been scared for _her_! "Peter…"

He placed a kiss on her neck, a soft, feathery kiss that sent tingles all through her. "I would have gone to pieces if anything would have happened to you…"

Phoebe melted against him, gently stroking his cheek with her hand. "I don't want you to go to pieces," she whispered shakily.

Peter gently turned her in his arms so that she was facing him. His eyes held that powerful, intense gaze that took her breath away. "Then stay," he told her quietly, fervently, taking her face between his hands. "Never leave me… Alright?"

Phoebe suddenly wondered about the woman he had alluded to before, the one whom he had lost. _That's not gonna happen to me. You'll never lose _me_, Peter Petrelli. _"Nothing's going to happen to me, Peter," she whispered. Her lips twitched with a grin. "You always take care of me."

"I always will," he told her hoarsely. And then, he leaned forward and took her lips with his.

Phoebe felt her knees give as she responded to his impassioned kiss. Peter's arms came around her waist, keeping her on her feet, drawing her close to him. She slowly slid her arms around his neck, devoting all that she was and everything she felt about him to that one first kiss.

After a few dizzying moments of bliss, Peter slowly withdrew his lips from hers, hugging her tightly.

Phoebe laid her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, softly rubbing his back. _I love you, Peter. I know that I do…_

"Come on," he whispered in her ear. "We've zigzagged long enough. We need to get to the mall before it gets too dark."

Phoebe drew back from him slightly, grinning. "I think I like zigzagging," she said.


	12. The Dangers of MultiTasking

My gratitude goes out to all my reviewers. You keep me going!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Peter finishes the seventh sketch, but will not let anyone see it. He does not want Phoebe or Nathan to try to stop him from doing the thing he has sketched himself doing, which has yet to be revealed. The others gather around him with support when he has a near-collapse after completing the picture. A while later, they are all splitting up to scout out Anderson Mall, where they suspect Sylar and their other enemies to show up. After a group hug (started by Claire, finished by Hiro, and mocked by Nathan, despite his participation), they start out the door, to be halted in their tracks by Noah Bennet, who insists in going along with Nathan and Claire. Peter and Phoebe split off from the others, taking Nathan's advice to "zigzag." They spot Sylar in front of the coffee shop, but Peter uses his invisibility and knowledge of Sylar's powers to avoid a conflict. Once Sylar is gone, Peter tells Phoebe how scared he was for her. Phoebe reassures him that she trusted him to take care of her, to which he replies that he always will. And kisses her. :) As they continue their walk to the mall, Phoebe declares that she likes zigzagging... Hmmm. I wonder why...

**Chapter Twelve (The Dangers of Multi-Tasking)**

_This has got to be the weirdest day of my entire life, _thought Claire Bennet as she walked between two men who could both reasonably claim the title of "father" to her. The three walked in silence for awhile down the streets of New York, Claire wishing desperately that one of the others would say something, something that had nothing to do with her birth or adoption or upbringing.

Finally, the silence was broken.

"So… You ever think of going into politics, Bennet?"

Claire raised an appreciative eyebrow at Nathan. _That's it. Keep it nice and vague._

"No." Noah shook his head. "I've always had other things to think about."

"Like kidnapping people and experimenting on them?" asked Nathan scathingly.

_Okay, so you blew it, "Flying Man."_

"I thought I was doing the right thing," said Noah, his voice controlled but cold. He looked askance at the politician. "I suppose you've never done something wrong for all the right reasons?"

Nathan narrowed his eyes on the other man, working his jaw. "You've got me there, Bennet."

"Oh look! Isn't that the cutest coffee shop!?" Claire exclaimed animatedly, pointing toward a little coffee shop across the street. "Can we get a coffee, Dad?" she begged, looking up at Noah and hoping urgently to draw the two men's attentions away from skewering each other with sarcasm.

Before her adopted father could reply, Nathan spoke. "I don't think that's such a good idea. Hiro said he saw Sylar there in the future."

"But I thought we were trying to _find _Sylar," Claire remarked. "Why not find him there?"

"I don't know about everyone else, but I'd personally like to face Sylar on my own terms," Nathan told her. "I'd rather know what to expect."

"But we don't know what to expect at the mall, either," Claire argued.

"I say we listen to the man, Claire-bear," said Noah, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I think it's best that we stick to the original plan."

"Okay. Fine. We freeze." Claire rolled her eyes as they continued walking. "Just think of all those happy people in there, drinking that warm, frothy cappuccino…"

"There's a Starbucks in the mall," Nathan said quickly. He glanced over Claire's head at Noah. "That is, if you don't mind."

The man with the horn rimmed glasses raised an eyebrow. "It is a bit chilly out here. Coffee sounds good."

* * *

As Hiro Nakamura studied the face of his blind companion in the taxicab, he decided that he had never before seen someone look so completely sad and tragic.

"Are you staring at me?"

Hiro blinked, eyebrows raising. "How you know?" he asked curiously, not bothering to deny it.

Sasha's petite mouth quirked in a grin. "I'm touching your arm." She elbowed him gently. "I can sense things through touch, remember?"

Hiro nodded. Then, remembering that she was blind, said, "Yes. Sorry."

"No… It's okay…" Sasha leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

"You… okay?" Hiro asked her tentatively.

Sasha rolled her head to the side to face him, unseeing. "Take a guess."

"Uhm… no."

"Bingo." Sasha turned her face away from him. She sighed. "I'm sorry, Hiro. I'm no good as a traveling companion, am I?"

"It's okay," said Hiro, patting her arm. "I know how you feel."

"Hmm. How is that?" Sasha's voice sounded distant, as if her thoughts were elsewhere.

"I… I lose someone I love, too," said Hiro quietly.

Sasha faced him once again, her delicate features touched by sorrow. She reached out to place a tiny hand on top of his. "You did?"

"Yes." Hiro looked down at their small hands, the hands of two people bereaved. "Her name was Charlie. She was waitress. Sylar killed her."

"Oh." Sasha's blind eyes lit up with compassion. "So you _do _understand."

Hiro nodded. "Yes."

They were both quiet for a moment. Then Hiro leaned forward and tapped on the glass that separated them from the cab driver.

"Yeah?" The man quickly slid the glass open.

"Stop here, please," said Hiro.

"Sure thing, pal."

Sasha tugged on Hiro's sleeve, frowning. "What are we doing?"

Hiro patted her hand softly. "Flying Man say to follow different paths. We will take new one now."

* * *

Staring up at the words reading "Anderson Mall," Peter shuddered as a cold chill ran through his body. One hand involuntarily went to his pocket, where the seventh sketch resided.

"What is it, Peter?" Phoebe asked, wrapping her arm around his.

Peter gave her a quick smile. "It's nothing," he told her. Of course, she knew he was lying. It scared him sometimes how in tune with him she was.

"Peter…" Her green eyes narrowed on his face, then sharply glanced toward his pocket. "What is that?"

"It's that sketch I did," said Peter. "The last one. I'm keeping it with me."

"Why?" asked Phoebe. He could tell she was barely restraining her curiosity.

"Because I don't want anyone else to see it." Peter started walking toward the glass doors of the mall.

"Why don't you want anyone else to see it?" Phoebe asked, keeping her grasp on him.

"I have my reasons," said Peter nonchalantly.

"Let me guess. You don't want anyone to try and stop you from doing whatever you sketched yourself doing."

Peter stopped walking and closed his eyes.

"That's it, isn't it? You've seen yourself doing some grand, dangerous thing, and you think me or Nathan is going to try to stop you before you can pull it off." Phoebe's voice trembled slightly, and she reached with a shaking hand to run her fingers gently through his thick dark hair. "Oh, baby, what is it that you think you have to do?"

Peter took a breath, thinking to speak, but words left him, crowded out by emotion. He spun around and took Phoebe into his arms, clinging to her tightly.

Phoebe's eyes widened as Peter swept her into the passionate embrace, first cradling her tenderly against him, then capturing her lips in a heady, breathless kiss. Fear and love mixed wildly inside her. She was suddenly sure that Peter was having doubts about surviving the confrontation with Sylar and the other villains. And that thought terrified her. "Peter, you don't have to do this… whatever it is. You don't have to," she murmured to him, not caring that, as they walked by, visitors to the mall were staring at the embracing couple.

"I do," he whispered. "I do, Phoebe." His lips brushed her cheek lightly as he pulled back from her, holding her at arms' length. His eyes stared searchingly into hers. "We're going to find Sylar. And we're going to stop him. I'm sure of it."

Phoebe bit her lip and nodded, looking down at her feet. When she looked back up, she asked softly, "But what happens to _you_?"

He pressed his lips together, looking at her steadily, eyes dark with secrets.

"Peter! Phoebe!"

Phoebe turned around to see Hiro leading Sasha by the hand up the steps to the mall entrance. "Hi!" She waved to them, forcing a smile.

"Aren't we supposed to stay split up?" Sasha remarked as the four heroes met in front of the doors.

"I think so," said Peter, acting as if he and Phoebe had never had that heart-rending conversation on the steps. "Why don't you guys take one side of the mall, and me and Phoebe will take the other."

"Sounds good." Hiro gave him a thumbs up. He peered around the others, staring through the glass doors into the mall. "We take that side," he announced, pointing to the left. "Good luck to you!"

"Alright," said Peter, nodding. "We'll take the other." He held out his hand to Phoebe. "Come on."

Throwing a half smile to Hiro, Phoebe took Peter's hand and let him lead her into the shopping mall. She kept her eyes on her companion, trying to memorize every line of his body, every gesture he made. She could not stand the thought of ever losing him…

"Phoebe, stop worrying about me," Peter told her abruptly as they moved into a clothing store. "Everything's going to be okay." He flashed her a cocky grin. "I can heal, remember?"

She nodded rigidly, her fingers tightening convulsively around his hand. _Yes. You can heal. And guess what? Our mysterious enemy organization has some sort of technology that can block that healing power. You _know_ that, Peter. I know you haven't forgotten that…_

"_You're _the one who will be in danger," Peter said quietly, halting his stride and turning to face her. "But I'm going to take care of you, remember? So…" He shrugged. "You shouldn't be worried at all." Quickly, he changed the subject. "Now… We need to keep our eyes open for anything suspicious."

"Do you have any powers that can help us out with that?" Phoebe asked, moving closer to him, her eyes scanning the noisy crowds.

"There's a police officer--Matt Parkman, I think his name is--who can read minds," Peter told her. "I can use that skill, but… It gives me a bad headache."

"Well, you don't have to do that if it--" Phoebe bit her lip to keep from saying something snappish as she watched Peter focus on the crowd. It was no use trying to stop him from doing things dangerous to himself. She was beginning to learn that…

Peter's eyes narrowed, and he pressed his lips together in concentration. Snatches of thought spoke in his mind. _I wonder if I maxed out that credit card?…I can't stand the way Daisy does her hair!…That girl in the black jacket is so hot! …I wish my dad would look at this sweater. It would suit him perfectly. …This egg roll sucks…. _

Then, a different thread of thought caught his attention. _They'll be here anytime now. My plan is perfect. There's no way they can resist. Maybe they're here already. Hmm. Does anyone look suspicious?_Quickly, Peter grabbed Phoebe's arm and pulled her toward the dressing room door.

"What is it?" she hissed.

"I think that guy that attacked us in the hotel is here," Peter whispered to her. Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, he slipped into the men's dressing room, pulling Phoebe inside with him.

"Well what are we doing in here?" Phoebe asked him, one eyebrow raised.

"Going invisible," said Peter. He took hold of Phoebe's upper arms and closed his eyes, focusing on his memories of Claude, memories of being invisible, trying not to think about how badly his head was aching.

"Hey!" a sharp voice called. "What's going on in there? You're supposed to ask before you go in there!" There was a heavy rapping on the dressing room door.

"Peter?" Phoebe's voice raised in pitch.

"Hang on. I'm working on it." He concentrated again, this time with success.

"Dude, I could have sworn there was someone in there!" one of the attendants called to another. His face appeared, popping up under the dressing room door. "Nope. Nobody's in here."

"Probably the invisible man!" the second attendant chuckled.

Peter and Phoebe waited until both attendants had left the vicinity of the dressing room, then they snuck out into the store, invisible to all but each other.

"Peter, can you read minds and be invisible at the same time?" Phoebe asked him quietly as they walked out of the store.

"I don't know," said Peter, frowning. "I talked to you in your mind when we were invisible. That was kind of tiring, but I suppose maybe I could…" His mind clouded with worry. For a second there in the dressing room, he had not been able to use his invisibility. Maybe the headache from mind reading had distracted him…

"Peter, look!" Phoebe exclaimed in a whisper. "It's Claire and her dad! And… her other dad!" She pointed across the wide food court toward a Starbucks.

"We probably shouldn't meet up with them, but… I'm glad we're all here."

"Me, too. Safety in numbers and all that," said Phoebe. She glanced around the mall, looking for some glimpse of the man who had once attacked them, the man who had shot Peter… That thought made her blood boil, and for an instant, she decided that if she saw the enemy, she just might kill him…

"You're not killing anybody," Peter told her quietly.

Phoebe glanced at him sharply. "You read my thoughts?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "By accident. Sorry." Then he grinned his crooked grin. "That was really cute, though."

"Me wanting to kill somebody?" Phoebe asked, lips twitching with a smile.

Peter nodded. "Yeah." Then his grin faded. "Uh-oh."

"What is it?" Phoebe asked, worried by the sudden look of anxiety on his face.

"There's more than one of them here." He closed his eyes, his face pinched in concentration. "I think I just heard the word 'Sylar…'"

"Peter, stop!" Phoebe exclaimed in a whisper, her heartbeat skipping at the sight of a trickle of blood running from his nose. "Your nose is bleeding!" She quickly took his face between her hands. "That's enough!"

Peter opened his eyes, shaking his head as if to clear it. He quickly ran a hand under his nose, staring with wide dark eyes at the blood on his fingertips. "I guess that was too much for me," he muttered. He blinked his eyes rapidly.

"Peter, are you alright?" Phoebe grabbed his shoulders and shook him gently. "Look at me!"

He met her eyes, pupils dilated. "I'm--I'm fine."

"Look, we know that those people are here, that they're waiting for us. Why can't we just leave and come back later?" She reached up to touch his face. "You need a break."

Peter nodded vaguely. "Alright. A break…"

Phoebe firmly linked her arm through his. "We're joining up with your brother and the others."

"Okay." Peter nodded again, blinking hard.

As they walked across the food court, invisible, worry ate at Phoebe's heart. The fact that Peter was acquiescing so easily to retreat was enough to let her know that he was not feeling well. The closer they came to Nathan, Claire, and Noah, the faster she walked, until she was practically dragging Peter with her.

When they reached the little Starbucks, the other three heroes were seated at a small table, looking around the mall and sipping steaming cups of coffee. Claire glanced up, narrowing her eyes at the sound of Phoebe's heeled boots tapping on the floor. She tugged on Noah's sleeve. "Dad, did you hear that?"

Phoebe glanced around to make sure no one but Claire was looking. "Peter, you can let go now."

Peter nodded and closed his eyes.

Claire gasped at the sight of Phoebe and Peter materializing by the table. Then she smiled and slapped her forehead. "Should have known it was you!"

"What are you doing?" Nathan snapped at them. "We're supposed to stay split up."

"There have been some complications," Phoebe said quickly. "We need to leave."

Nathan was swiftly on his feet. "What's going on?"

"They're ready for us," Peter told his brother, his voice a bit breathless. "And there are more of them than I expected."

"Are you alright, Pete?" Nathan asked sharply, narrowing his eyes on his younger brother.

"He tried to be invisible and read everyone's minds at the same time," Phoebe said before Peter could reply. "I think that was a bit much for him."

"I'm fine!" Peter exclaimed indignantly.

"You don't look it," said Noah, also coming to his feet. "I think the girl is right. We should go."

"But we're so close!" Claire exclaimed. "We're here! We might as well try to find these bad guys and take them down."

They were all quiet for a moment, considering their options. To fight or to flee?

Then Nathan asked Peter, "What's that in your pocket?"

Peter sighed and glanced at Phoebe, then turned to his brother. "It's the seventh sketch I did. Don't worry about it."

Nathan crossed his arms. "What's in that sketch, Pete?"

Before Peter could reply, Phoebe spoke up, "Has anyone seen Hiro and Sasha?"


	13. The Danger of Associating with Petrellis

I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas! Thanks so much for all the encouraging reviews. You guys keep me going!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _The heroes have split up in groups to make their way to the mall. Claire feels weird as she walks between her dads--Nathan and Noah. At first, things are awkward, but a common craving for coffee (haha, that was nicely alliterated) smooths things over. Hiro and Sasha, meanwhile, begin to bond, sharing the loss of their loves to Sylar. And Peter and Phoebe, post-kiss, reach the mall. Peter freaks out, worried about what he knows he must do. Phoebe attempts to comfort him, but is starting to get scared about the sketch. The two of them run into Sasha and Hiro, then split off again from the others. Peter uses his invisibility to hide them in a dressing room after he discovers a that the mall is a trap by mind-reading. When he attempts to maintain invisibility and mind-read at the same time, he gets a nasty nosebleed and a touch of dizziness, causing Phoebe to panic. Phoebe spots Claire, Nathan, and Noah, and insists that she and Peter meet up with the others. Peter agrees with her plan, and the two groups join at the mall's coffee shop (what is it with me and coffee shops?). They start to argue over whether to leave or spring the trap. Nathan notices that Peter has the ominous seventh sketch in his pocket and asks about it, but before Peter can answer, Phoebe asks an important question: "Has anyone seen Hiro and Sasha?"

Once again, over half of this story (including this chapter) was written before the Season Two finale aired.

**Chapter Thirteen (The Dangers of Associating with ****Petrellis**

Hiro caught his breath and ducked down behind a massive Christmas display, as the big man he had been following walked by. Beside him, Sasha knelt, head tilted to one side as she listened carefully. Finally, the man they were shadowing was out of hearing range. Hiro tapped Sasha's shoulder. "He is gone. We follow him now." He took her hand. "Come."

Hiro led Sasha carefully through the variety store, dodging shoppers, slipping behind coat racks and holiday displays, keeping their quarry ever in sight. Hiro was beginning to think this was a fun job. He felt just like someone out of a comic book, trailing their enemy…

"What's he doing now?" Sasha whispered as they halted behind a huge plasma TV display.

"He is looking at… video games." Hiro pushed his glasses up his nose with his free hand, surprised that his enemy enjoyed video games. It was strange that they had something in common…

Then, abruptly, the man's head jerked up. He turned to face someone else, a man in a long coat and a baseball cap.

Hiro caught his breath as he glimpsed the newcomer's face.

"What is it?" Sasha breathed, her grip on Hiro's hand tightening.

"Sylar," Hiro whispered tensely. "We need to hear what they say." Straining his ears, he listened to the conversation between Sylar and the big man.

"Have you found them, yet?" Sylar asked the other man in a low, threatening voice.

"No." The larger man shook his head, rummaging through a bin of video games and avoiding Sylar's eyes. "Are you sure they're here?"

"I know it," said Sylar confidently. "Where are the others stationed, Bill?"

"Mack is heading up to the second floor. Fred is hanging around the entrance. And I just sent Brennan to the food court."

"Good." Sylar took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "You have no idea how good it feels to anticipate the power that will soon be mine."

Big Bill chuckled nervously. "Well, I'm glad you're on our side, Mr. Sylar."

Sylar grinned slowly. It was a malicious, closed-mouth little smirk, and Hiro knew that Sylar had no intentions whatsoever of honoring whatever agreement it was he had with this man. Then Sylar walked away, hands in his pockets, still smirking.

Hiro slowly let out the breath he had been holding, then turned to Sasha. "We go now," he whispered to her. "We must warn others. This is a… How you say? A trap."

Sasha nodded. "We have to tell them." Then she frowned. "But how will we find them?"

"No worries," said Hiro, taking both of her hands. "We will find them."

* * *

Noah Bennet glanced at his watch, frowning. "How much longer do we plan on waiting? The longer we wait, the more chance there is of our enemy finding us."

"I thought that was the point," Claire muttered, chin in her hands.

"Yes, but like I said before, we want to meet Sylar and these other guys on our own terms," Nathan indicated. "If they've got some sort of trap laid out for us, I don't plan on walking right into it with my eyes closed."

"Yeah, and if we keep putting off this confrontation, that will give them even more time to come up with gadgets that block our powers and stuff like that," Claire pointed out.

Standing nearby, Phoebe was only half listening to the conversation at the table. Her eyes were fixed on Peter, who was pacing restlessly, his bright brown eyes scanning the food court for any sign of Hiro and Sasha.

Peter suddenly noticed Phoebe watching him, so he stopped pacing and flashed her a sheepish smile. "I'm just… worried."

"Me, too," she told him quietly.

"I think--I think I should use my invisibility and go find them," he replied earnestly.

Phoebe opened her mouth to argue, then quickly shut it, crossing her arms and pressing her lips closer together. She nodded slowly. "I think you're right." _What's that old, overused cliché? If you love something, let it go? _She smiled slowly. _But I won't let him go alone…_

"Phoebe!" Nathan exclaimed, shooting her a glare, as if she were a conspirator who had betrayed him.

"He'll be alright, Nathan," said Phoebe quietly, keeping her eyes on Peter. "Because one of us is going with him."

"I'll go!" Claire hopped to her feet, smiling brightly.

"Now, Claire--" Noah started.

"I'm the one going with Peter, and I don't want to hear any argument about that," said Nathan firmly, suddenly.

Phoebe and Claire exchanged glances, then looked at Nathan.

Nathan shrugged and moved to stand with Peter. He winked at Phoebe brashly. "My turn."

Then the Petrelli brothers vanished.

For a moment, Phoebe stood very still, holding her breath, afraid to let Peter out of her sight. Then she felt a light, invisible kiss on her cheek, and she smiled.

Standing there invisible, Peter watched Phoebe's smile with wide open eyes.

"Pete, come on." Nathan tugged on his arm impatiently.

Peter was extremely tempted to kiss Phoebe again, while he was good and invisible, while he was safe, while he could look at her with unguarded eyes, unafraid that she would be scared away by the strength of his feelings for her. But he knew he had to go. He reached out and softly touched her face, then turned to follow Nathan into the crowds of the mall, dodging shoppers with bags and workers with brooms.

"You're serious about that girl, aren't you?" Nathan asked quietly.

Peter nodded, swallowing hard.

"I'm sorry about Simone," Nathan said abruptly.

Peter glanced sharply at his brother.

"No, really, I am," said Nathan, halting his stride and keeping his grip on his brother's arm. "I know how badly that hurt you, and… I'm sorry…"

Peter shrugged. "It wasn't your fault." He looked down at his feet. "It was mine…"

Nathan grabbed onto his brother's shoulders and shook him. "That's not going to happen again, you hear me, Pete? So stop worrying that you're going to somehow lose Phoebe. Look at me, Pete."

Peter raised his head and met his brother's eyes.

"I've seen the way she looks at you, the way she touches you." Nathan sighed. "I think she's in love with you. She won't be leaving you anytime soon."

"But Simone didn't leave me either, Nathan," said Peter quietly. "She was killed because of me."

"Well we're not going to let that happen to Phoebe, are we?" Nathan gave him another gentle shake.

"No." Peter shook his head, eyes intense.

"So stop worrying about it, alright?" Nathan reclaimed his earlier grip on his brother's arm, looking away from Peter's powerful gaze. "Just… Let yourself go with her. It's not going to scare her away." Then he continued walking, pulling Peter along.

Peter sighed and followed his brother, keeping his eyes open for Hiro and Sasha. He considered trying to find them by listening for their thoughts, but decided he did not want to freak Nathan out with a nosebleed. _Why scare him now? He's going to be scared enough when that sketch starts to come true… _His hand hovered over the paper in his pocket, and he took a deep breath. _You're right, Nathan. We're not going to let anything happen to Phoebe…_

* * *

"Who are you looking at, Hiro?" Sasha asked sharply, tightening her hold on Hiro's arm.

"A man in a gray coat. He look… suspicious."

"I thought so." Sasha nodded as they moved slowly toward the food court. "I could feel you tense up inside, like you were worried." She frowned. "What's he doing now?"

"He is looking around. I think he is looking for us." Hiro pulled Sasha behind a large fern. "Be very quiet. He looking this way." They stood very still behind the plant, trying not to draw attention to themselves as the man in the gray coat scanned the area.

As soon as he turned his back on the two heroes, Hiro let out his breath. "Sasha, I will teleport us into food court, so we get there first, just in case our friends are there."

Sasha nodded. "I'm ready." She closed her eyes and leaned into the little Asian man, sensing his concentration through her hands.

Suddenly, Hiro stopped concentrating his powers.

"What is it?" Sasha whispered.

"Flying Man!" Hiro exclaimed gleefully. "And Peter Petrelli! They were invisible!" He slipped his arm from Sasha's grasp to give the Petrelli boys a thumbs up.

"Hiro!" Peter exclaimed. "Where were you?"

"Following the big man and Sylar!" Hiro told him excitedly.

Nathan frowned, glancing around quickly. "Sylar!?"

"Yes. He is sending men to find us. This mall is trap. That man in gray coat is going to food court to search for us." Hiro pointed to the retreating gray figure.

"We've got to get there first!" Peter exclaimed. "That's where the others are!"

"Come on." Hiro took hold of Sasha with one arm and held the other out to the brothers. "We teleport--now!"

* * *

Phoebe jumped backward, nearly knocking over all three capuccinos on the table, as four people materialized in front of her. "Peter!" she exclaimed upon seeing him. "You found Hiro!"

Peter nodded and ran to her, surprising her by taking her in his arms and kissing her deeply. When he pulled back from her, still gripping her upper arms, he said quickly, "We need to get out of here. Sylar has set a trap for us. There's a man coming this way, in a gray coat. He's looking for us."

"You mean _that_ man in a gray coat?" asked Claire, pointing.

Everyone turned to look. And indeed, a tall, slim man in a gray coat was walking with purpose toward the food court.

"That is him!" Hiro exclaimed.

"We have to get out of here!" said Peter.

"He's between us and the doors," Noah pointed out grimly.

"I do not know if I can teleport us all. Teleporting four… make me tired!" Hiro remarked, shaking his head.

"Hiro--you take half of us out by teleportation. I'll make the rest of us invisible," said Peter decisively.

"Good idea." Hiro nodded. "Who wants to be teleported?"

"Hurry!" Nathan exclaimed, glancing over his shoulder. "I think that man has spotted us!"

"Come on, Claire." Noah took hold of his adopted daughter and pulled her toward Hiro. "We'll get teleported."

Hiro nodded to them. "Okay. I can take you two." He glanced at the blind girl beside him. "And Sasha." Then he looked at Peter. "You take Flying Man and Phoebe?"

"I've got 'em," said Peter with a nod. "Good luck."

Chaos broke loose in that moment, in the form of a gunshot.

BANG!

Screams erupted across the mall, and people everywhere ducked, covering their heads. Some ran or crawled toward the doors. But the man in the gray jacket stood straight and tall, aiming his gun and preparing to fire again.

Stunned and on her knees, Phoebe glanced around frantically. To her horror, she saw that the other heroes were all there! Hiro had not made it out in time! The little Japanese man huddled under the table between Sasha and Nathan. Noah Bennet was bent protectively over Claire, who was halfway under a chair. Peter knelt close to Phoebe, eyes wide.

"We have to get out of here now!" Nathan yelled. "He's still coming for us!"

"Hiro! Take them out of this!" Peter called to his friend.

Hiro nodded and reached out, taking hold of Sasha's arm and Claire's leg. "Hold on!" he cried. And then, Hiro, Sasha, Claire, and Noah vanished.

"Peter, get us out of here!" Nathan called to his brother. "You can teleport, too!"

"Alright!" Peter called back. He took Phoebe's hand. "Come on. We have to get to Nathan. I think I can--"

BANG! BANG!

Two shots went off, fired in rapid succession.

Phoebe heard Peter yell, "Nathan!" and she quickly turned her attention to the elder Petrelli brother. Nathan was slumped against the legs of the table, clutching his upper left arm. Blood leaked between the fingers of his right hand.

Peter jumped to his feet in front of his brother, spinning to face the man with the gun. Dark eyes burning with anger, he made a chopping motion with his arms. Two coffee chairs flew across the food court, smashing into the man in the gray coat. The enemy went down, his pistol smacking the tiled floor and sliding.

Thinking fast, Phoebe climbed to her knees and reached out with her power, pulling the gun across the floor and into her hands.

"Let's go!" Peter exclaimed, tugging her to her feet. "We have to get Nathan!"

The two of them raced across the coffee shop area to Nathan's side.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked his brother, panic evident in the shakiness of his voice and the paleness of his face.

"It's just a bad scratch," said Nathan through clenched teeth. "I guess you were right about bullet-catching being in the family…"

The wails of police sirens echoed through the mall.

"We've got to go _now_!" Peter urged, kneeling by Nathan and gently taking his brother's uninjured arm.

Phoebe knelt by the Petrelli brothers, nodding. "Let's do it."

"Phoebe! Look out!" Nathan cried suddenly.

Phoebe had just started to turn her head when something slammed into it. First she saw stars. Then everything went black.


	14. Separation Anxiety

Much Heroes love to my readers and reviewers! You guys are my heroes:)

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Hiro and Sasha overhear a conversation between the man who attacked them in Phoebe's hotel room and Sylar. It seems that they have made an alliance to trap the heroes, but Hiro believes Sylar plans to betray his new comrades. Hiro and Sasha set out to find the others and tell them what they heard. Meanwhile, Peter and Nathan have set out to find Hiro and Sasha. The four of them meet up and discuss the trap, then Hiro teleports them all to the food court, where Phoebe, Claire, and Noah are waiting. Peter quickly fills them in on what's going on, when suddenly, they are attacked by one of the enemy--a man in a gray coat, who happens to be carrying a pistol. He takes a shot at them, and everyone ducks, sending the mall into a panic. Hiro teleports Claire, Noah, Sasha, and himself out of the mall on Peter's orders, but Peter, Nathan, and Phoebe are left behind. The attacker fires his gun again, shooting Nathan in the arm (evil me, I know). Peter knocks down the shooter with telekinesis, and Phoebe takes his gun away with said power. They hurry to Nathan's side. Nathan urges Peter to teleport them out of the mall, but before Peter can do so, something hits Phoebe in the head and she blacks out...

**Chapter Fourteen (Separation Anxiety) **

Peter Petrelli watched in horror as the white metal chair slammed into the back of Phoebe's head before he could even react. "No!" he shouted. "Phoebe!" He reached out just in time to catch her as she pitched backward, eyes closed.

"Peter! Behind you!" shouted Nathan, struggling to his knees, his bloody left arm cradled against his chest.

Peter spun around just in time to see the man in the gray coat raise another chair. Concentrating as hard as he could, he reached out with telekinesis and yanked the chair out of the man's hands. The enemy staggered backward, and Peter turned to face his brother, supporting a limp Phoebe in his arms. "Come on, Nathan!" He reached out and grabbed Nathan's hand.

"He's turning on his bracelet!" Nathan exclaimed, nodding toward the man in the gray coat, who was hastily fumbling with the metal band on his wrist. "Hurry!"

Holding tightly to Phoebe and Nathan, Peter closed his eyes and willed them to a safer place.

* * *

"Phoebe! Can you hear me? Come on, Phoebe, open your eyes. Can you hear me?" 

_I can hear you. I can hear you._ Phoebe could think the words, but she could not say them. Peter's frantic, panicky voice ran through her body like a dash of cold water, awakening her consciousness. _Come on, eyelids. Open. That's right. _Slowly, she managed to lift the lids, which felt ridiculously heavy. Bluish artificial light stabbed her eyes immediately, causing an ache to rush through her head. "Ouch."

"Phoebe!" Peter's handsome face appeared above her, eyes shiny with unshed tears of worry and fear. "Can you see me?"

"Yeah," she managed, her mouth oddly numb. "Wow. My head hurts."

Peter's gently hand gently stroked the side of her face, stealing away a bit of the pain. "Do you think you can stand?"

"Uhm… I can try."

"Good. Here…" Peter's hands gently reached under her shoulders, and he helped her into a sitting position. "There you go. That's good…" His voice was soothing, the voice of a natural nurse.

"Thanks." Phoebe flashed him a groggy smile. Then she looked around. The sun had set, but a bright streetlight lit up the vicinity. All Phoebe could see was trees… and some grass. "Where the heck are we?"

"A park… somewhere…" Peter made a face. "I'm not quite as accurate at teleportation as Hiro. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. At least we're-- Hey! Where's Nathan?" Phoebe asked, suddenly worried that the politician had somehow gotten left behind.

"I'm right here." A pale Nathan moved around Peter to kneel on the grass beside Phoebe. He held up his cracked cell phone, grimacing. "My phone got smashed back at the mall. I don't have a clue where the others are, or where _we _are for that matter."

"How's your arm?" Phoebe asked him, noting his paleness.

"Still bleeding, but Peter's taking care of it." Nathan's upper left arm was wrapped tightly with Peter's belt. "How's your head?"

"Sore," Phoebe groaned.

Peter took Phoebe's face gently between his hands. "Do you feel any nausea?" he asked, eyes narrowing with worry.

"No." She shook her head slowly, gingerly.

"Dizziness?" Peter inquired, staring intently into her eyes.

Phoebe grinned slowly. "Only when you look at me like that," she said quietly. She could see Nathan rolling his eyes behind Peter's back.

Peter smiled crookedly. "I think you'll be just fine. Your pupils look alright. Still…" He stood, reaching down to carefully pull her to her feet. "You need to take it easy for awhile. You're gonna have a nasty bump on the back of your head."

"Ugh." Phoebe reached up and touched the back of her skull. Sure enough, there was a large knot beneath her hair.

"I should have acted sooner," said Peter quietly, brown eyes full of regret. "I wasn't fast enough." He leaned his forehead against Phoebe's, closing his eyes tightly. "And you got hurt…"

"Peter, that wasn't your fault." Phoebe closed her eyes as well, savoring the warmth of him. "You got us out of there. You rescued us."

Peter planted a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. "I wish I would have been faster. I just… I panicked."

"Calm down, Pete. We're alive, aren't we?" Nathan spoke up.

"Yeah, and both of you are hurt," said Peter, looking at his brother. "I was so scared! There for a moment, I thought I'd lose both of you!"

"But that didn't happen." Nathan placed a hand on Peter's shoulder and gave his younger brother a steady look. "We got out because of you."

Peter sighed. "I tried to do the right thing. And look where we ended up…"

The three of them glanced at their surroundings. The park was wide, but seemed smaller because of the abundance of trees and hedges. A few paved pathways ran through the grass, but the park had a mostly wild look to it, contrasting sharply with the distant, civilized lights of buildings.

"I don't think this is Central Park," said Nathan slowly.

"I wouldn't know," Phoebe replied. "I've only been to New York once before, when I met Sasha for the first time."

"This place look familiar to you, Pete?" Nathan asked his brother.

Peter shook his head, eyes wide with concern. "No. Not at all. Those buildings don't look familiar, either." He frowned. "I hope we're still in New York…"

Phoebe's eyebrows shot up. "You mean, we could be… anywhere?"

"Yeah… Maybe…" Peter took a deep breath. "I don't think I should try to teleport us again. Who knows where we might wind up."

"Ah, great!" Nathan ran a hand down his weary face. "This is just great."

"What do we do now?" Phoebe asked, her voice sounding ridiculously small to her own ears.

"Well first of all, we need to find out where we are," said Nathan. He started to stand, but swayed on his feet, so he quickly knelt down again.

"Whoa, Nathan, are you okay?" Peter asked quickly.

"Just a bit… dizzy," Nathan said with an involuntary shudder.

Phoebe and Peter exchanged worried glances, and the younger Petrelli moved to his brother's side. "You sure, you're alright, Nathan?" Peter asked quietly, placing a hand on Nathan's shoulder.

"Yeah. I'm fine. It's not everyday I get shot," Nathan managed dryly, then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Just give me a few more minutes before we leave so I can catch my breath."

"Okay." Peter patted his brother's back, meeting Phoebe's worried eyes. "We'll wait."

_So here we are in the middle of some park none of us has ever been to before. Nathan's been shot. I'm possibly suffering from a minor concussion. Peter's worn out from using his powers. And Sylar and those other bad guys are still out there. Peachy. _Phoebe managed a brave, tired smile. "I say we take our time. If _we_ don't know where we are, I'm sure _Sylar _doesn't."

"Let's hope he doesn't," said Peter, bending over his brother's wounded arm. "Maybe I should find out where we are, and you two should stay here."

_"_No!" Phoebe and Nathan exclaimed in panicked unison.

"We stay together," said Phoebe firmly. "It would be absolutely awful if we lost each other out here."

"Yeah, that would be--" Peter's voice broke suddenly as he took in the damage the bullet had done to his brothers arm, and he glanced back at Phoebe with wide, alarmed eyes. "Phoebe, are you wearing anything that could easily be used as a bandage?"

Phoebe looked down at herself. "Uhm, no… Why?" She turned quickly to the Petrelli brothers.

"What? Am I dying or something?" Nathan asked sardonically. "That won't work. I've got a state to represent!"

"That isn't funny, Nathan. This is worse than I thought." Peter nervously brushed a wayward bang of dark hair behind his ear. "Phoebe, we need to find something that--"

"Here." Phoebe quickly withdrew a small package of Kleenexes from her jacket pocket. "Maybe this will help."

Peter hastily snatched the packet from her and ripped into it, rapidly shoving the tissues under the tightly wound belt, pressing them against the deep gash in his brother's arm.

"Ow! That hurts!" Nathan exclaimed.

"Nathan, your arm is bleeding way too much. I don't like this," Peter muttered.

"Me, either, Pete," Nathan replied. He shuddered. "I didn't know I had that much blood in me."

Phoebe moved closer to the brothers, eyeing Nathan's blood-soaked sleeve with uneasiness. "Maybe we should find the closest hospital," she suggested.

"No. We need to find the others," Nathan argued. "I'm not gonna die from a scratch on my arm."

"Nathan--" Peter started.

Nathan held up a hand. "You're not the only stubborn Petrelli, Pete. I'm not going to a hospital. At least, not yet. We have to find out where we are and find a way to get in touch with the others."

Peter pressed his lips together, frowning worriedly at his brother. "Alright, Nathan. If you say so. But… If you get any worse, you won't be able to stop me from taking you to a hospital."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Wanna bet?"

Peter narrowed his eyes on his brother's. "I do. 'Cause if you try to fly away, I am coming after you."

* * *

Hiro Nakamura paced worriedly, up and down, up and down, his small feet tapping out a beat on the floor of Peter's apartment. Watching him, Claire felt the hope she had stored within her slowly trickling away. If Hiro was depressed, things must be really, really bad. 

"Casualties happen," Claire's adoptive father was saying. "We might have to accept them as lost."

"No." Hiro stopped pacing, frowning. "We cannot accept this. Peter Petrelli… He would teleport Phoebe and Flying Man to safety. Or maybe Flying Man flew them all away…" He shook his head. "I sure they not dead."

"Then where are they?" Noah wondered aloud.

Hiro shrugged. "I do not know."

"You said Peter might have teleported them out?" Noah asked thoughtfully.

Hiro nodded. "Yes."

"Hmm…" The former Company man tapped his lower lip. "He hasn't had much practice teleporting, has he?"

"I do not think so," said Hiro. His face brightened. "Ah! I see! He may have teleported to wrong place!"

"Exactly," said Noah.

"So now we have to find them," said Sasha from her place on the couch.

"Where would they have gone?" Noah turned to Claire. "You know Peter better than any of us. Where might he have accidentally ended up?"

Claire shrugged, frowning worriedly. "I really don't know. Maybe at the Petrelli mansion? Or a friend's place? I don't know…" She sighed. "I wish I could think of more."

"Well that's a start, at least," said Noah.

Hiro nodded quickly, eagerly. "Where will we start?"

Noah glanced at his wristwatch. "It's late. Maybe we should wait till tomorrow…"

"No!" Claire exclaimed vehemently, panic rising within her. "Peter and Nathan and Phoebe are out there--somewhere, who _knows_ where--and they might need our help! That man was _shooting _at them when we left them behind! I can't believe we actually _did_ that!"

"Peter Petrelli told me to teleport away," Hiro said quietly. "I listen to him. I know I can trust him." He stepped forward to place a hand on Claire's shoulder, smiling encouragingly at her. "You should trust him, too."

Claire took a deep breath and sighed, calmed somewhat by the earnest look in Hiro's eyes. "I know. I _do _trust him. But… still…"

"I know." Hiro patted her shoulder gently. "There is much danger."

"Yes." Claire sighed again, looking down at her feet and fiddling with the pull-strings of Phoebe's hoodie. "Much danger…" Then she looked up, turning to face her father. "Dad, we can't leave them out there. Please…"

Noah looked from Claire to Hiro to Sasha, then back to Claire. "There's a girl, a little girl, who has the power of finding others. But I doubt I could get to her. Her guardians are very protective." He sighed. "I don't know what we can do, Claire-bear. None of us has the power to find them."

"But we can try," Claire whispered desperately, clasping her hands in front of her.

"I think someone's at the door," Sasha spoke up suddenly, cocking her head to one side. "I heard footsteps."

Sure enough, there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it," said Noah, moving toward the door. "The rest of you stay put." He peered through the peephole, drawing a sharp, surprised breath at who he saw on the other side.

"Dad, what is it?" Claire whispered.

Noah did not answer. Swiftly, he undid the locks on the door and opened it.

"Are you looking for Peter and Nathan Petrelli?" a female voice asked.

"Yes," said Noah quietly.

"And Phoebe Agnew!" Hiro called out.

Noah stepped aside, and a woman with a flat, rectangular package walked into the apartment. "I can help you find them," she announced.

* * *

_Well, at least we know we're in New York City._

Peter, Phoebe, and Nathan, tired and battered, stood in front of an abandoned appliance repair shop. The address was painted in fading blue letters on the dusty window.

"I think we can find our way home from here," Nathan said confidently, despite the paleness of his face and the feverish shudders that plagued him.

Eyes distant, Peter mused, "Where's home?"

Nathan narrowed his eyes on his brother. "Tonight, home is wherever I can lay down my head without worrying about the top of it being cut off," he commented acerbically.

"You were _supposed_ to say, 'Home is where the heart is,'" Peter shot back, crossing his arms.

"How about 'home is when you're with the people you love?'" Phoebe spoke up, slipping an arm around Peter's waist and leaning tiredly against his shoulder.

Peter turned his head to kiss her hair. "I like that one," he said quietly.

Bowing his head, Nathan murmured under his breath, "Me, too."

"Well, we'd better get going," Peter said, turning his head to face his brother, but keeping an arm around Phoebe. "Think you're up for a walk, Nathan? I don't think any taxis come through this side of town."

"I'll make it," said Nathan, managing a half smile.

"Are you sure?" Peter asked worriedly.

"Absolutely," said Nathan. Then he grimaced. "I might have to lean on you a bit, Pete."

"No problem," Peter replied, moving closer to his brother. Flanked by Phoebe and Nathan, he lifted his head and looked forward into the dark, quiet streets. "Keep your eyes open for taxis."

(A/N: I did some evil things to Nathan in this chapter. Some lines that I wrote for him that now seem ironic and evil: "It's not everyday I get shot." (marinawings slaps her own hand) "What? Am I dying or something?" (marinawings slaps her own face) Let's just hope Kring hasn't bumped off Nathan for good. I will be very upset then, and it won't be myself I'm slapping.)


	15. Prelude to a Showdown

Here's a smiley for all those who read :). And if you review, here's another one :).

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Peter teleports himself, an unconscious Phoebe, and an injured Nathan out of Anderson Mall. The thing is, he has teleported them to an unknown park. At first, the three of them are confused as to their location, and Peter and Phoebe are becoming very worried about Nathan, who is losing a lot of blood from the wound in his arm and is growing steadily dizzier. Meanwhile, back at Peter's place, Hiro, Claire, and Noah are debating what to do about being separated from the others. Before they can decide what to do, a woman shows up at the apartment claiming to know where the Petrelli boys are. Noah seems to recognize her. Peter, Nathan, and Phoebe discover that they are still in New York City, albeit in a practically abandoned side of town. They decide to go in search of a taxi...

**Chapter Fifteen (Prelude to a Showdown)**

Finding a taxi in that quiet, old section of the city proved to be a difficult task. By the time a cab was finally found, Nathan was barely clinging to consciousness. Phoebe was sure he would pass out on them as she, Peter, and the wounded Petrelli himself climbed into the yellow taxicab.

"Where you headed?" the cab driver called back to the three heroes.

Peter hurriedly told the man the address of his apartment building, then leaned back in his seat, turning quickly to his brother, concern clear in his intense brown eyes. "Nathan, are you still with me?"

Nathan, head leaned back against the seat, eyes closed, nodded slowly. "I'm still here, Pete," he said quietly, his voice hoarse.

"How's the arm?" Peter asked, leaning over his brother's arm to check the injured limb.

"Hurts," Nathan muttered between clenched teeth.

Phoebe watched anxiously as Peter examined his brother's arm.

"It's not bleeding as bad as it was before," Peter said softly.

"Huh. That's good…" Nathan's voice was faint, and his eyes remained closed. "Doesn't matter, though, if I've already bled out all my blood…"

"Don't say that, Nathan." Peter frowned and reached to feel his brother's forehead. "I think you've got a fever."

"Doesn't surprise me," Nathan groaned.

"Just relax," said Peter comfortingly. "We'll be back at my place in no time."

"Good." Nathan took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

_We need to get in touch with the others, _Phoebe thought as she watched the brothers. _They need to meet us at the apartment. Maybe one of them will know what to do with poor Nathan_. "Excuse me," she called to the cab driver, "But do you happen to have a cell phone?"

The scruffy man glanced back at her with a raised eyebrow. "Sure. Whatcha need it for, lady?"

"Look, my friends and I got separated from our other friends," Phoebe explained vaguely. "I need to let them know where we are, that we're okay."

"Whatever. I got free nights and weekends." The driver reached into his jacket pocket and drew out a cell phone, then tossed it to Phoebe.

Phoebe quickly flipped open the phone, then groaned at her own naivety. "Dang it. I don't know anyone's numbers. Peter?" She turned to him with inquiring eyes.

Peter shook his head. "I don't know any of their numbers by heart. And I--" Then, suddenly, he blinked. "Wait a minute. I do! I don't know how, but I remember all of their numbers!"

"Good!" Phoebe exclaimed. "Here!" She quickly handed him the phone.

Eyes wide with surprise at his own abilities, Peter punched in a number. "Wow. I must have picked up a memory skill from somebody." He quickly held the phone to his ear, waiting as the other line beeped once, twice, a third time…

Then, blessedly, a small voice answered, "Hello?"

"Hiro!" Peter exclaimed. "Hiro, where are you?"

"Peter Petrelli!?"

"Yes. It's me! Hiro, where are you?"

"We are in your apartment," Hiro explained. "We are about to leave and come search for you."

"We're on our way, in a cab," Peter told him quickly. "Look, just stay where you and get some bandages ready. Nathan's hurt, and--"

"What happen to Flying Man?" Hiro cried.

"He was shot in the arm by that crazy guy in the gray coat," Peter replied hastily. "Just get some bandages ready. We'll be there in--"

"Whoa!" the cab driver shouted abruptly. "Hang on!" He jerked the steering wheel hard to the left, and the car slid sideways.

Phoebe grabbed onto Peter's arm and buried her face in his shoulder, terrified, as the cab went into a spin.

* * *

Hiro quickly snapped his cell phone shut and shoved it into his pocket. He moved across the room to grab up his samurai sword from the table, then turned to Claire, who was standing behind him. "Claire, I must teleport to save Peter Petrelli and the others. Go tell your dad that I will be back."

"Hiro, what's going on?" cried Claire, blue-green eyes full of panic.

"Something bad happen. They are in danger!" Hiro exclaimed. "I must teleport to save them!"

"When you get there, call us and tell us where you are, and we'll come." Claire told him quickly, feeling overwhelmed by this sudden responsibility.

"I will," said Hiro solemnly. "Be careful, Cheerleader." And with that, he frowned in intense concentration, then vanished from the apartment.

* * *

The taxicab screeched to a halt on the wrong side of the road, only a few feet away from a power line pole. "Everybody okay back there?" the cabby called in a shaky voice.

"Phoebe? Nathan?" Peter asked quickly, sitting up straight and glancing around.

"I'm alive," Phoebe panted, clinging to him.

"I wish I wasn't," came Nathan's reply. "My life is officially a nightmare."

Eyes wide, Peter called up to the driver, "What happened?"

"There was a person… a man… standing in the middle of the road," the cabby muttered, shaking his head as if to clear it. "He just stood there. I barely missed him, the idiot." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, leaning back against the seat, big hands still clutching the steering wheel.

A sudden certainty came to Peter, and it took all of his self-control not to panic. "We need to get out of here," he told Nathan and Phoebe quickly.

"What's going on, Pete?" asked Nathan, wincing and clutching his injured arm.

"I think it's Sylar," Peter replied quietly.

"What the heck are you guys talking about?" the cabby asked, frowning at them in the rearview mirror.

"Look, just don't let anyone know what you saw here tonight, okay?" Peter cautioned the man.

The driver's frown deepened. "Huh?"

Peter ignored him and turned swiftly to Phoebe. "Are you okay? Are you sure you're okay?"

Phoebe nodded quickly. "I'm sure. What do we do?"

"Maybe I can teleport us out of here," said Peter.

"No." Nathan shook his head. "We don't need to risk ending up in Timbuktu."

"Then we might have to fight him," said Peter, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'll do it if I have to. I'm the only one who can face him. You two need to get out of here."

"No way!" Phoebe exclaimed, grabbing Peter's shoulders. "I'm staying with you!"

"Maybe we can fly out of here," Nathan suggested.

"That won't work," said Peter. "You're hurt, and I can't carry both of you."

Nathan worked his jaw, narrowing his eyes on his brother. Then he sighed. "You're right. I can barely walk, much less fly."

"What the heck!?" the cabby exclaimed, turning to face them. "Who _are _you people?" Then his eyes widened. "Senator Petrelli?"

Nathan managed a flashy politician's smile. "That's me."

"What happened to your arm? Did someone try to assassinate you?" the cabby asked quickly. "Is it a conspiracy?"

"You could say that," Nathan commented with a wince. "Just… Do us a favor and keep this under wraps…" He quickly read the man's name tag. "…Johnny. I'll remember this."

"Come on," said Peter, patting Nathan's shoulder gently. "We need to get out of here. Staying in the cab is putting Johnny in danger."

The driver's eyes widened even further. Phoebe thought they might pop out of his head.

"Where do we go?" Phoebe asked Peter nervously as she opened the side door of the cab.

Peter shook his head, worry clear in his dark eyes. "I don't know. But we need to get moving." He frowned suddenly, reaching toward the floorboard.

"Peter, what is it?" Phoebe asked.

"I'm looking for--Ah!" He triumphantly held up Johnny's cell phone, then frowned. "Great. It's broken!" He handed the cracked device back to the cab driver. "Sorry about that."

"No problem," said Johnny with a shrug. "It wasn't your fault. It was the fault of that stupid man who walked out in front of my cab."

* * *

From the shadows of an abandoned building, Hiro watched as his three friends climbed out of the cab, waving at the driver as the taxi sped away. Then they began walking down the street, Nathan leaning heavily on Peter's shoulder. Hiro started to call out to them, but something made him hesitate. What had happened? Why were they not staying in the cab? Why had his conversation with Peter ended so quickly? He was certain now that his first impulse was true, that there was some danger surrounding Phoebe and the Petrelli brothers. Something bad had happened. Something bad was _going _to happen…

That was when Hiro saw it, movement from across the street, a reflection in a window. Someone was following his friends! He reached over his shoulder to touch the hilt of his sword. If he had to go in swinging, then so be it…

* * *

Every nerve ending in Peter's body was tingling with a sense of danger. Sylar was nearby. He knew it, was sure of it. And here he was walking casually down the street, his brother barely conscious beside him, Phoebe clinging to him with wide, trusting eyes… And that sketch… It was still in his pocket, a constant reminder of what he was willing to do for these people, the people he loved. _They're depending on me to take care of them, _he thought as they walked down the empty street. _I can't let them down…_

A streetlight behind them went out suddenly and silently. Peter glanced quickly over his shoulder toward the new patch of darkness.

"Peter, what's going on?" Phoebe whispered. "Is it Sylar?"

Peter nodded, drawing her close to his side. "I think so. Just… stay calm. I think if it comes down to it, maybe I can beat him."

Another streetlight went out. In the distance, Peter could hear a dog barking, then the distant honk of a car horn.

"Pete, maybe we should try flying," suggested Nathan worriedly, his shoulders heaving with heavy breaths.

Then, all of a sudden, a figure walked out in front of them, swiftly moving out of a darkened alley.

"Get behind me," Peter told his companions gruffly, stepping in front of them and transferring Nathan's weight to Phoebe's shoulder.

"Peter…" Phoebe cautioned, her voice sounding incredibly young and afraid.

"It'll be alright, Phoebe," said Peter, advancing toward the shadowy figure.

"No worries!" a familiar voice called as the shape walked into a beam of light. "It is me, Hiro Nakamura!"

Peter thought he would faint with relief. "Hiro!" he exclaimed. "We thought you were--"

"Sylar!" Hiro shouted, pointing behind Peter.

Peter spun around, horror rising within him. And there stood Sylar, illuminated by one of the remaining streetlights, standing only yards away from Phoebe and Nathan. "Nathan! Phoebe!" Peter cried.

Phoebe spun around awkwardly, supporting Nathan, who was nearly a dead weight against her shoulder. Her green eyes widened at the sight of Sylar just standing there under the streetlight. Swiftly, she backed toward Peter and Hiro, dragging Nathan along with her.

"Hiro!" Nathan called, his voice ragged. "Get us out of here!"

"Okay, Flying Man!" Hiro replied, rushing forward. But before Hiro could reach the others, Sylar raised a hand, and the little Japanese man went flying backward, sliding across the sidewalk on his back.

"Hiro!" Peter cried. He glanced behind him to make sure Hiro was alright, then took a deep breath and turned to face Sylar, stepping around Nathan and Phoebe.

"Pete, be careful," a breathless Nathan cautioned his brother.

"I will," Peter replied. He slid his eyes from Nathan's to Phoebe's. "Take care of Nathan and Hiro for me," he told her quietly. "I'll be right back."

"You'd better come back!" she replied, her voice shaky with emotion.

He did not reply, merely held her gaze steadily for a moment, then rushed forward to meet his enemy.


	16. One Hundred Eighty Degrees

I and my characters thank you for reading and love you for reviewing!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Peter, Phoebe, and the wounded Nathan finally find a taxi. Phoebe gets the bright idea to call the others on the cabbie's cell phone. Peter miraculously remembers Hiro's cell number (utilizing Charlie's memory skill which he does not realize he picked up from Sylar), but just before he can tell Hiro where they are, someone steps out in front of the cab, and the driver jerks the wheel, sending the car into a spin. Hiro decides that it's up to him to find his friends and prepares to teleport to their location. Meanwhile, the taxi screeches to a halt, and everyone is alright--except for the cell phone. Peter gets the feeling that Sylar is behind this and advises the taxi driver (named Johnny, who happens to be a Petrelli voter) to leave them behind for his own safety, which he does. Walking down the street, Peter, Nathan, and Phoebe meet up with Hiro, who warns them that Sylar is following them. Sylar appears in the street behind them, dangerously close to where Phoebe is supporting the weakening Nathan. Nathan orders Hiro to teleport everyone to safety, but before he can do so, Sylar flings the poor little guy backward. Peter, being Peter, moves between Sylar and the others, then decides to rush out and meet Sylar head on...

Note: This was the last chapter I wrote before watching the Season Two finale. Just to let you know. I have utilized a few Season Two elements in the next few chapters, but mostly, I've stuck with my own imagination and let the characters themselves direct my story. They tend to take it and run with it... (marinawings: Peter! Nathan! Get back here with my story!)

**Chapter Sixteen (One Hundred Eighty Degrees)**

Hiro Nakamura climbed unsteadily to his feet, shaking his arms to make sure they were not broken. His bones seemed to be alright, so he quickly looked around for his friends. Phoebe was kneeling on the ground beside Nathan, who was sitting, bowing his head and clutching his left arm. And Peter… Hiro gasped. Peter was rushing toward Sylar, who stood confidently in a haze of bluish light.

"Peter Petrelli!" Hiro called, waving his arms. But Peter did not listen. He continued his mad dash toward Sylar.

Hiro quickly ran down the sidewalk to where Phoebe and Nathan were. "Are you okay?" he asked, kneeling beside them.

"I am," said Phoebe. "But Nathan's in bad shape." She looked around him to where Peter and Sylar were facing each other. "And Peter needs our help."

Nathan looked up with tired, pain-filled eyes. "We can't let him fight alone."

Hiro straightened, determination flooding his veins. He shook his head slowly. "He will not fight alone."

* * *

"It's over, Sylar," Peter shouted, clenching his fists. "This ends now." 

Sylar shook his head, smiling slyly, and took a step forward, leaving the beam of the streetlight in favor of darkness. "Not the way you think, Peter," he said calmly, hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"You can't stop me," Peter replied. "I'm taking you down once and for all." He made a sweeping motion with his hand, and Sylar flew backward into the streetlight pole. Peter advanced toward his crumpled enemy, senses alert.

Sylar sprang up quickly, but Peter was ready for him, flinging him once again into the pole.

Slumped on the ground, Sylar began to laugh derisively.

Peter blinked, confused. What on earth did the man have to laugh about?

"You fool," Sylar spat, sitting up on his hands and knees. "Don't you realize that I'm more than a match for you?" He stood shakily, but his dark eyes were steady. "Do you have any idea what Brad Collins was able to do?" With a twisted grin, he stretched out his hand toward Peter.

There was instant pain, emanating in sharp, agonizing waves from the inside of his body to the outside. Peter cried out and crumpled to the ground, curling in on himself, his vision blurring with the intensity of the pain.

"So tell me now, Peter…" Sylar stood over his writhing victim, continuing to pummel him with waves of pain. "How's it going to end?"

"Like this!"

BAM!

Sylar reeled and fell flat on his back as a metal trash can slammed into his face, breaking his nose.

Phoebe could not help but kick the man before rushing to Peter's side. "Peter!" she cried. "Are you alright?"

Peter sat up slowly, his body still aching, but free from the sharp, stabbing pain. He looked up at her, his pupils dilated with shock. "Yeah. I think I'll be--"

"Look out!" Hiro cried.

Peter and Phoebe turned. Sylar was on his feet with blood streaming from his nose, stretching out his hands toward them.

Thinking fast, Peter reached out with his telekinesis and grabbed both ends of the collar of Sylar's jacket, pulling them tightly together.

Sylar gasped out a choking cough as the collar cinched his neck in a tight vise. He clawed vainly at the fabric cutting into his throat.

Peter stood unsteadily, helped by Phoebe, and continued tightening the collar around Sylar's neck.

But even while he was being choked, Sylar was strong. Smirking and gasping at the same time, he extended a shaky hand, and Peter went flying backward, dropping with a nasty cracking sound to the pavement.

"Peter!" Phoebe screamed, turning to him. She watched in horrified fascination as he stood slowly, popping a broken shoulder back into place.

"Phoebe! Behind you!" Peter cried hoarsely.

Phoebe spun around to face Sylar, screaming with fright at the sight of the metal trash can she had thrown flying toward her face. And then, suddenly, she was out of harm's way, small arms wrapped around her waist, the trash can bouncing off the street behind her.

"Thanks, Hiro!" Phoebe exclaimed as the little teleporter released her.

"No problem." Hiro pushed his glasses up his nose, and the two of them turned to see where Sylar had gone.

He was nowhere in sight.

Peter stood alone under the streetlight, turning in confused circles, trying to figure out where the enemy had gone. Nathan leaned against the nearest abandoned building, still clutching his bloody arm.

Then, Phoebe spotted a shadow above the streetlight. "I think he's up there!" she shouted, pointing toward the light pole.

Peter looked up, squinting in the light.

Suddenly, Sylar detached himself from the shadows above the streetlight, leaping down toward Peter, one hand glowing red with explosive power.

Quick as a flash, Nathan leaped into action--literally. He flung himself into the air, flying swiftly toward his brother. As soon as he reached Peter, he wrapped him in his arms and lifted him off the ground, pulling him out of the way just in time. Sylar's flaming fist slammed harmlessly onto the sidewalk, and the villain cried out in pain.

Adrenaline pumping inside her, Phoebe stepped forward and raised her arms, reaching out with her power and tugging hard on the light pole. The pole came crashing down on top of Sylar, the light itself shattering in a scatter of sparks on the street.

"Good work, Phoebe Agnew!" Hiro exclaimed, patting her back proudly.

Nathan veered his flight toward the others, coming to land beside them and setting Peter on his feet. "That was an adventure," he panted, eyeing Sylar, who was lying motionless beneath the light pole.

"Thanks, Nathan," Peter replied, eyes wide, giving his brother's shoulder a squeeze. "You're my hero."

"You are… okay, Flying Man?" Hiro asked him tentatively.

Nathan nodded, breathless. "Yeah," he managed. "I'll be fine."

"Peter?" Phoebe moved to stand closer to the younger Petrelli brother, placing a hand on his chest. She could feel his heartbeat fluttering wildly under her fingers.

"I'm alright," he said quietly. Then he frowned. "We need to make sure Sylar's dead." He glanced at Hiro. "Hiro, bring your sword."

* * *

"Hiro hasn't called yet," Claire told her father, crossing her arms and leaning against Peter's counter. "And he said he'd call when he found them. Something bad must have happened." 

Noah sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Then I guess we'll have to let Angela help us." Everything he knew about Angela Petrelli screamed at him to kick her out of the apartment, but… Who else could they turn to?

"Of course you'll have to let me help you," said Angela Petrelli, strolling purposefully into the kitchen.

"And Hiro and Phoebe," Claire added quietly.

"I know who Hiro is, but who is this Phoebe?" Angela asked, frowning.

"She's a friend," Claire told her. "She met Peter in his dreams. She's telekinetic."

"And _her _friend? The blind girl?" asked Angela, nodding back toward the living room.

"She senses things with her hands," Noah told her.

Angela raised a thoughtful eyebrow. "Does Phoebe have long blond hair?"

Noah tilted his head to one side and crossed his arms, studying Angela closely. "Yes. Now how did you know that, Angela?"

"We don't have time for this!" Claire cried. "We have to find them. They're in danger!"

Angela smiled crookedly. "Don't get so worked up, Claire. We don't have to find them."

Claire's eyebrows raised. "What do you mean?" she asked incredulously.

"I mean I already know where they are." She smiled at the stunned looks on their faces. _Just wait until this plan really picks up steam…_

* * *

Phoebe watched with trepidation as Peter and Hiro neared the still form of Sylar. She found it hard to believe that the powerful villain had been taken out by a streetlight pole… 

"I think we should just get out of here," Nathan muttered from beside her. His face was ridiculously pale, and he shivered sporadically, constantly clutching his limp and bloody left arm.

"I'm with you," Phoebe said, crossing her arms. She glanced worriedly at the politician, then reached to place a steadying hand around his good arm. "Maybe you should sit down or something."

He flashed her a weak smile. "Passing out would be nice right now."

"Don't pass out on me, Flying Man." She smiled back at him warmly, wishing with intensity that they were all four safe and well and happy somewhere far away from this bizarre street, perhaps sitting in front of a fireplace, laughing about the ways in which they had all first met…

"Where did he go!?"

Peter's frantic exclamation drew Phoebe from her pleasant fantasy, and she quickly turned her eyes to where Peter and Hiro stood over the fallen light pole. To her unpleasant surprise, Sylar was gone.

"We must get out of here!" Hiro cried. "Come on, Peter Petrelli." He tugged on Peter's sleeve. "I teleport us to safety."

Peter nodded, tossing his bangs out of his wide brown eyes and turning to face Phoebe. "Phoebe! Nathan! We're getting out of here!" he called.

Peter and Hiro ran toward Nathan and Phoebe, and Nathan and Phoebe ran toward Peter and Hiro. They met in the center of the street, all wide eyed and worn out.

"Come. We teleport now," said Hiro, holding out a fist in the middle of the circle they created. "Take my arm."

But before any teleporting could take place, a piercing cry of, "HELP ME!" made the heroes jump.

Nathan quickly looked at his brother. "Don't even think about it, Pete. We're getting out of here. Now."

"But someone's in trouble," Peter protested, glancing around the darkened street.

"So are we," Nathan told him through clenched teeth.

"I teleport you back to Peter Petrelli's apartment, Flying Man, then return to help Peter find person who needs help," Hiro suggested.

A scream ripped the air--and Phoebe's nerves. She shuddered. "I don't like this. Something doesn't feel right…"

Then, suddenly, pain burst through Phoebe's body. She gasped, pitching forward. Peter caught her in his arms, eyes wide with panic.

"Phoebe!" he cried. "What is it?"

Phoebe shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut as Peter lowered her to the ground, keeping her protectively close to his body. She could barely breathe for the pain. "Sylar," she managed, pressing herself against Peter, as if the closeness of him could somehow take away the pain.

Nathan and Hiro moved to stand defensively over Peter and Phoebe.

"Sylar!" Peter shouted, clutching Phoebe tightly to his chest, his voice echoing back from the abandoned buildings. "Come out! It's me you want, not her!"

Phoebe sighed heavily as she was abruptly released from pain. She wiped tears from her eyes with shaky hands.

"Hiro, get us out of here _now_!" Nathan ordered, shaking the little man by the shoulder. "Phoebe, are you okay?" he asked her quickly.

"I think I'll live," she managed, laughing shakily. "Thanks."

"Okay! Now!" Hiro bent over Peter and Phoebe.

"Step back from them or I'll hurt her again," came a commanding voice from nearby.

Hiro straightened, eyes wide, as Sylar emerged from the shadows. "Okay. Sorry." He held up his hands, thinking rapidly and frantically.

Peter stood quickly, reaching to help Phoebe to her feet. He drew her close to his side, stroking her hair. "You'll pay for this, Sylar, I swear to you."

"Big words from a little man," Sylar scoffed. He turned to Nathan. "You--move away from Peter and the girl."

Nathan lifted his chin stubbornly. "I don't think so."

Sylar rolled his eyes and made a quick, short motion with his hand. Nathan tumbled backward, landing heavily on the sidewalk, falling unfortunately hard on his injured arm. To Phoebe's horror, he did not get up.

"It's me you want, not them," said Peter angrily, dark eyes narrowing stormily on Sylar. "Let them go."

"I don't think you realize who's in charge here," Sylar replied. "What are you planning to do if I don't let them go?"

"If you don't let them go, I'll kill you," Peter told him coldly.

"It seems to me that you've tried that before." Sylar smirked. "And since one of us is going to have to accomplish some killing…" He laughed. "I'm happy to oblige."

Peter quickly slid Phoebe behind him, his body tense and wary.

"Peter!" Phoebe clung to him tightly, trembling all over.

"Hiro," Peter called to his friend, ignoring Phoebe's plea. "If I lose control, get Phoebe and Nathan out of here."

"Okay." Hiro nodded, his expression intense and focused.

"Phoebe, step back from me," Peter told her quietly.

"No!" she cried, her voice squeaking, tightening her arms convulsively around his waist.

"Step back from me, _now_!" Peter shouted, jerking out of her grasp.

Phoebe staggered as he moved away from her, a sob shuddering through her body.

And then, suddenly, Peter's hands were glowing with an ominous light. He held out his arms and stepped toward Sylar.

Sylar laughed. "Oh! So you're trying _that _trick again, are you? Maybe this time you won't explode. Because if you do…" He grinned broadly as he and Peter began circling each other. "Your brother isn't in any shape to fly you away and save everyone. Aren't you scared you'll blow up the city?"

Peter took a deep, ragged breath. "I'll do whatever I have to to stop you."

"Even blow up a city full of innocent people?" Sylar asked, his voice low and smooth and sibilant. "Where's Claire? And your mother? Will _they _get out in time?"

Peter stopped walking, shoulders heaving with harsh breaths. Slowly, he lowered his arms, closing his eyes in concentration. Gradually, the glow in his hands faded. Then he opened his eyes. "You're right. I can't let them die because of me," he told his enemy quietly. Then he lifted his head, straightened his slim, strong shoulders. "And I can't let them die because of you." He held out his hands toward Sylar, lowering his brows in intensity.

Suddenly, Sylar cried out in pain, collapsing to his knees.

Standing behind Peter, Phoebe quickly realized what was going on. Peter was turning the tables on Sylar, using the very power Sylar had hurt him with only minutes before.

"Phoebe!" Peter cried, stepping back slightly from the villain. "Help Nathan!"

"But--"

"Do it!" Peter ordered.

Phoebe nodded, even though he could not see her, then hurried to Nathan's side. The elder Petrelli brother was lying on his back on the sidewalk, eyes closed. Panic jolted through Phoebe's nerves. Was he breathing? She flung herself to her knees beside him, quickly holding a hand over his mouth. She sighed in relief at the feel of warm breath on her palm.

"Nathan," Phoebe called to him. "Get up!" He did not respond, and Phoebe gently touched his face with trembling fingers. It was burning hot. Panic raced through her blood, clenching at her heart. "Nathan!" she cried again, voice high-pitched with alarm. "Get _up_!"

* * *

"_This _is where my sons and their… friends are." Angela Petrelli quickly unwrapped the package she had been carrying, revealing a painting done in comic book style. 

"Is that an Isaac Mendez painting?" Noah asked her sharply.

"Indeed it is," said Angela proudly.

Claire moved past her father to stand in front of the painting, staring at it with wide eyes. The artist, obviously talented, had depicted a dimly lit street, lined with old, mostly abandoned buildings. Standing in the center of the street were five people. The small Asian man with glasses was obviously Hiro. A man in a suit with a bloody left arm stood nearby--Nathan. A slender, dark-haired man in a blue coat and a tall, blond haired girl in a pink coat stood close together--Peter and Phoebe. And the four of them were facing a fifth figure--Sylar.

"We have to go there!" Claire exclaimed, pointing at the picture. "We have to help them!"

"You're right, Claire," said Angela. She pointed to a street sign near the corner of the painting. "And we know exactly where they are." She smiled as Claire and Noah leaned in to read the sign on the painting. Everything was going according to plan…


	17. Shadowed Valley

Thanks to my readers and reviewers!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Peter, Phoebe, Nathan, and Hiro confront Sylar on a backstreet (How many of you started singing "I Want It That Way" after reading that word?). Sylar shows off the power he stole from Brad--using it to take Peter down with sheer pain. Phoebe smacks him in the nose with a telekinetically thrown trash can, and the fight is on. The four heroes use their various talents to protect each other and fight Sylar. They think they have him when Phoebe pulls down a light pole on him. Meanwhile (back at the ranch, lol), Angela Petrelli reveals to Claire and Noah that she knows where the others are. And she has some sort of plan going on (of course she does--she's Angela). Back on the street, Sylar has disappeared. The heroes nervously prepare to be teleported to safety by Hiro, but naturally, Sylar attacks, using the pain power on Phoebe and knocking a protective Nathan out of the way--and out of consciousness. Peter, enraged by this time, turns the tables on Sylar, pommelling him with the pain power. Phoebe checks on Nathan and is appalled and traumatized when he won't wake up (as she should be; I would be). At the end of the chapter, Angela unveils an Isaac Mendez painting revealing the four heroes facing Sylar on the street. Conveniently, a road sign is displayed...

**Chapter Seventeen (Shadowed Valley)**

"Hiro! Hurry!" cried Peter breathlessly. His strength was slipping away--and his hold on Sylar was slipping along with it. He took a deep breath and continued to focus the waves of pain on his enemy.

"Peter! Nathan won't wake up!" Phoebe cried from behind him, her voice catching in a sob.

"Is he breathing!?" Peter called back, his voice shaky with all the panic, rage, and fear he felt.

"Yes, thank God!"

"Good! Just stay there! Hiro!?"

"Peter, you are losing strength!" Hiro exclaimed.

"Just get Nathan and Phoebe out of here," Peter ordered, eyes intense.

Hiro shook his head, a stubborn look on his little round face. "No, Peter Petrelli. Not without you."

Suddenly, Sylar, who had been curled in a silent ball of pain started to laugh.

"Shut up!" Peter shouted at him.

"Aren't you all so loyal?" chuckled Sylar, uncurling and beginning to sit up. "You won't even leave each other to save your own lives…" With a gasp of pain, he managed to stand, shoulders hunched, a muscle twitching on his forehead. His face twisted in a horrific, pained grin. "I suppose you'll all have to go down together." He raised his arms, aiming his hands at Peter.

Peter gasped as pain shunted through his body, but this time he managed to stay on his feet, persisting in emanating pain back at Sylar.

The two enemies faced each other through a wall of agony.

* * *

Bending over Nathan's still body, Phoebe raised her head to watch the battle of pain taking place between Sylar and Peter. The two young men stood face to face, bodies rigid with the tension of pain, neither willing to relent. Hiro stood nearby, watching nervously, as if unsure what to do.

"Hiro!" Phoebe called. "You're the only one who can doing anything! You have to stop time and get us out of here!"

"Don't move, Hiro!" Sylar snapped at the smaller man. "I'm already gaining the advantage here. You don't want me to make things harder on your friend, do you?" As he spoke, he began to smile through his pain, his eyes intensifying their focus on Peter.

Peter winced and gasped, arms trembling, but he stayed on his feet.

"I see you start to teleport or freeze time, and I'll make it worse," Sylar warned.

Hiro stood still, eyes wide with horror as he watched Peter weaken under the flow of pain.

"Hiro! Get Peter _out _of there!" Phoebe cried.

"No, Hiro!" Peter shouted. "Take Phoebe and Nathan!"

"I'll take care of Nathan, Hiro," Phoebe called back, placing a protective hand on the elder Petrelli's chest. "Just get Peter _out of there_!"

"Just stand there, Hiro," Sylar laughed. "That's it."

Hiro felt as if the fate of the world was resting in his hands, because, in an indirect way, it was. He bit his lip, looking back and forth from the battle between Sylar and Peter and the place where Phoebe continued her attempts at waking Nathan. _If only Ando were here… He would give me good advice, _Hiro thought.

Sylar's harsh laughter stirred Hiro from his thoughts. He looked up in time to see Peter crumple to his knees with a sharp cry, wrapping his arms around his body. Sylar advanced on the younger Petrelli, moving with the ease of a pain-free man.

"Hiro!" Phoebe screamed. "Save Peter!"

Peter collapsed under Sylar's power, folding to the ground like a rag doll. His body convulsed with pain for a few seconds, then went still, dark eyes closing to the world.

"Hiiirrrrrroooooo!" came Phoebe's agonized scream. "Help him!!!!!"

Sylar looked up from his fallen enemy, snapping his head around to face Phoebe. His face twisted in a slow, malicious grin.

And Hiro heard Ando's voice in his memory, then, as if his friend were standing right beside him.

"You can do it, Hiro. You are a true Hero."

So Hiro quickly focused his power, reaching out to stop time.

* * *

"Can't this thing go any faster?" Claire complained, crossing her arms and frowning with worry.

"I'm doing the best I can, Claire-bear," her father replied tightly, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. The stress in his daughter's voice echoed what he felt inside. He knew what Sylar was capable of. "We'll get there in time, don't you worry."

Claire nodded absently and looked out the window of the sedan, staring out at the twinkling city lights and the patches of darkness. "What are we supposed to do when we get there?" she wondered aloud. "It's not like _you_ have any powers." She turned to look at him, narrowing her eyes. "And it's not like you're going to let _me_ do anything."

"Powers are useful, I'll admit," said Noah. "But a good shotgun is of use, as well."

"A shotgun?" Claire raised her eyebrows. "I'm impressed."

* * *

All of a sudden, Phoebe was kneeling on brown grass, surrounded by wintry rosebushes. Nathan still lay before her, pale and unconscious. But the frantic shouts and pain-filled cries of battle were absent. The only sound to be heard was the gentle, soothing ping of a wind chime…

Phoebe quickly checked Nathan's pulse. She sighed heavily with relief to find that he was still alive, his blood pumping steadily. She would have collapsed with that relief, but suddenly realized that two people were missing... "Peter!" she called fretfully, standing on shaky legs. "Hiro!?" She glanced around quickly.

Hiro was straightening nearby. At his feet lay the unmoving body of Peter Petrelli.

"Peter!" Phoebe cried, rushing to him, flinging herself to her knees beside him. She took his face between her hands and looked up at Hiro. "Is he okay?"

"I do not know," said Hiro quietly. "I just bring us here."

"Thank-you, Hiro!" Phoebe gushed hysterically, her whole body trembling. "You've saved us!" She glanced over her shoulder at Nathan, her heart pounding with worry for the unconscious Petrelli brothers. "Go check on Nathan." As Hiro hurried to obey, she asked, "Where _are_ we?"

"Flying Man's house," Hiro explained as he knelt over Nathan. "He still alive. Peter Petrelli is still alive?"

Panicking, Phoebe quickly touched the throat of the man beside her. "Yes! Yes! He'll be okay!" Again, she felt like collapsing with relief. Instead, she moved to place a shaky kiss on Peter's forehead. "We're gonna be okay, Peter," she whispered to him, hoping he could hear her.

"Flying Man feel too hot," Hiro called to Phoebe, his voice sharp with worry. "I cannot get him to wake up." He looked up, meeting Phoebe's eyes. "Nathan Petrelli is not okay."

"What do you mean 'Nathan Petrelli is not okay!?'" came a frantic exclamation.

Phoebe looked up to see Heidi Petrelli storming into the rose garden.

"Heidi!" Phoebe exclaimed, green eyes widening with panic.

"Phoebe?" Heidi squinted in the darkness, hands on her hips. "What is going on? Where is--?" That was when she discovered that Nathan and Peter were lying motionless on the ground. "What happened!?" she cried, running forward and falling to her knees beside her husband.

Phoebe barely trusted her voice enough to speak, for fear she would burst into tears. "Well… Uhm… We were at a mall, a shopping mall, and someone tried to, uhm, assass--assassinate Nathan. And then all this crazy…" She closed her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath.

"We have to get them to a hospital," said Heidi quickly. She gently touched Nathan's brow, then turned her eyes toward Phoebe, who was similarly ministering to Peter. "Tell me the truth," she said, her voice low, eyes intense. "What happened?"

Phoebe looked down at Peter's still face, biting her lip and wondering how much to tell Heidi.

"Phoebe, Nathan told me before he left that when he got back… he would tell me everything," said Heidi quietly. "Now tell me what happened."

Phoebe met the other woman's eyes steadily. "Heidi, your husband can fly."

Heidi blinked. "What?"

"Nathan can fly," Phoebe told her. "And I can use telekinesis. And Hiro can bend space and time. And Peter… Peter can absorb the powers of others."

Heidi shook her head, frowning. "Are you trying to play some trick on me? What are you covering up?"

"Nothing!" Phoebe exclaimed. "I'm telling the truth! There's someone else out there, someone bad, who wants to kill us and take our powers and take over the world. We fought him tonight. One of his allies shot your husband."

"I can't believe this," Heidi replied. "I won't. You've been reading too many comic books." She glanced up at Hiro. "You--go in the house and get the First Aid kit. It's in the cabinet over the sink in the kitchen on the left. Then find Wyatt, the gardener. Tell him what's happened and have him call an ambulance."

"Yes, ma'am," said Hiro, and he hurried to obey.

Heidi turned back to Phoebe. "You have a lot of explaining to do."

Phoebe sighed in exasperation. "But I've already explained!"

"My husband is not some kind of freak," Heidi argued. "You're delusional if you think--"

"Heidi?"

"Nathan!"

Nathan opened his eyes, wincing. "Where am I?"

"You're home, Nathan," said Heidi, gently gathering him into her arms. "You're going to be alright. We're calling an ambulance."

"Peter…?"

"He's fine." Heidi glanced at her brother-in-law's still form, blue eyes clouded with worry. "You're all safe."

Nathan managed to lift his head, his brown eyes settling on his brother and Phoebe. "What happened to Peter?" he asked before letting his head fall back into his wife's arms.

"Sylar knocked him out with that pain power," Phoebe explained shakily. "But I think he's going to be alright."

"Nathan, you're burning up," Heidi murmured, touching his face.

"At least I'm home," he muttered, closing his eyes. "Home…" He chuckled weakly.

"Nathan, stay with me, honey," Heidi told him, her voice shaky.

"This time, I will," he murmured, nodding against her shoulder.

* * *

Claire hopped out of the car and closed the door behind her with a slam. The darkened street was completely deserted. "Dad…?" She turned to Noah, eyes wide with worry.

"I don't know where they are, sweetheart." The man with horn rimmed glasses narrowed his eyes on the street sign. "This is the right street. I'm sure of it." Something was not right. Every instinct was screaming at him to flee. "Claire, get back in the car."

"Dad, what is it?" she asked quickly.

"Get back in the car. We're leaving."

"But we didn't--"

"Get in the car, Claire!" he fairly shouted.

Claire hesitated only a second longer, then rushed back to the car.

"Where are they?" she called to her father as they both opened their doors.

"They were never here," Noah replied, sliding into the driver's seat. As soon as Claire was in the car, he locked the doors. "I should have known better. I'm sure now that that painting was tampered with."

Suddenly, two beams of light illuminated the road in front of them.

"Dad…?" Claire's voice trembled slightly.

"It's a trap, Claire!" Noah exclaimed, throwing the car into gear and pressing hard on the gas pedal.

The beams of light drew nearer.

Noah jerked the car around in a U-turn. "Buckle, up, Claire-bear. And hang on."

"What do you mean 'a trap?' Who's trying to trap us?" Claire cried.

Noah glanced at her, trying to decide what to say. "It would seem your 'grandmother' is in league with this mysterious organization. I have a feeling they're some sort of offshoot of the Company."

A black Hummer rounded the corner and accelerated toward the car.

"My grandmother?" Claire blinked. "But that can't be true! Peter and Nathan… They're her _sons_! And these people are tying to _kill _them! Do you think she _knows_?"

"I think she more than knows," said Noah grimly, glancing in the rearview mirror. "And we just left that blind girl alone with her."

* * *

After quickly delivering the First Aid kit to Heidi and Phoebe, Hiro hurried back into the house to search for the gardener. "Wyatt!" he called, jogging down the marble-floored hall. "Wyatt the gardener! Nathan Petrelli needs your help!" He jumped in fear as a big hand clapped onto his shoulder from behind. Swiftly, he spun around, coming face to face with a tall, elderly black man. "You are Wyatt the gardener?"

"That would be me," the older man said, frowning down sternly on Hiro. "I saw you come here with Mr. Petrelli the other day. What are you doing in this house?"

"My name is Hiro Nakamura. I come for help. Nathan Petrelli is shot. He is bleeding. His wife say for you to call ambulance," Hiro blurted. "Oh, please hurry! He is hurt badly. And Peter Petrelli is hurt, too! They need hospital!"  
Wyatt shook his head slowly. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this. I didn't want to have to choose so soon…"

Hiro frowned up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Mr. Nakamura, I'm afraid the Petrelli boys won't be going to the hospital tonight," said Wyatt, regret evident in his dark eyes, but regret for what Hiro was not sure.

"Why not?" Hiro asked indignantly, shoving his glasses up his nose.

"Because the hospitals are being watched," Wyatt said heavily, steering Hiro around toward the back door.

"Being… watched?" asked Hiro anxiously.

"I'm afraid so," said Wyatt. "Someone must know what happened."

"How you know what is going on?"

Wyatt looked askance at the smaller man. "Do you know anything about special abilities?"

Hiro brightened. "I bend space and time!" he proclaimed proudly.

"Well…" Wyatt sighed. "I can see the past."

* * *

Phoebe sat back on her heels as soon as she finished helping Heidi bandage Nathan's bloody left arm. Worry and weariness flooded her body and soul, making her want to cry. Nathan was so weak, so pale. The absence of his sardonic smile was more painful than Phoebe had ever imagined it could be. And Peter… Peter had yet to awaken.

Phoebe was terrified.

"I'm sorry, Heidi," Nathan muttered against his wife's shoulder, eyes closed, face damp with sweat.

"Shh, Nathan." Heidi glanced at Phoebe over her husband's head, eyes huge with panic. "Everything's going to be alright."

"Where are the boys?" Nathan asked faintly.

"They're staying with my sister tonight," Heidi told him. "Everything's _okay._" She kissed the top of his head, closing her eyes tightly.

"Phoebe?"

"Peter!" Phoebe turned to where she had left Peter lying nearby. To her joy, he was sitting up. She crawled quickly and desperately toward him. "Peter, are you alright?"

"I think so…" He sounded amazed at the fact, brown eyes round with the aftershock of pain. He looked down at himself and shuddered. "I'm sorry, Phoebe. I couldn't take it. I wish I were stronger. I--"

"Oh, hush!" Phoebe swept him into her arms, holding him tightly. "Peter, I was so scared for you! I should have done something to stop Sylar!"

"There was nothing you could have done," Peter told her, bringing up a hand to stroke her hair.

Phoebe drew back slightly from him, allowing him to continue caressing her hair. "You don't hurt anymore, do you?"

"No." Peter shook his head. "I'm alright. I just feel kinda weak." Then he frowned. "Where's Nathan? Where _are _we?"

"We're in your brother's yard," Phoebe explained. "He's over there." She nodded toward Nathan and Heidi. "Peter…" Her eyes told him everything--her worry, her fear.

Peter withdrew from her grasp and moved unsteadily to his brother's side. "Nathan! How are you doing?"

"Could be better," Nathan replied, opening his eyes with monumental effort. "I don't think I--"

"Phoebe! Phoebe!"

Phoebe quickly climbed to her feet as Hiro and Wyatt came out of the house and into the garden. "What is it?" she asked.

"Wyatt--he say that hospitals are being watched!" Hiro exclaimed. "We cannot take Peter and Nathan Petrelli to hospital!"

Phoebe narrowed incredulous eyes on the big gardener standing behind Hiro. "What!? Why!? What's going on!?"

"It's hard to explain," Wyatt told her, holding up his hands.

Peter was suddenly and dangerously on his feet, stalking toward Wyatt. "Well you'd better get started," he growled, grabbing Wyatt's arms. "My brother's life is at stake!"


	18. Collision Course

Thanks to all my readers! And a megalithic thank-you to all of my reviewers! I appreciate your comments!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Sylar and Peter face off with the pain power while Phoebe tends to the unconscious Nathan, and Hiro debates his next course of action. Peter orders Hiro to teleport Nathan and Phoebe to safety, while Phoebe begs him to rescue Peter first. Sylar threatens to harm Peter worse if Hiro tries to teleport. Finally, when Peter collapses under the pain, Hiro decides that he's gotta do what he's gotta do--and teleports all three of his friends to safety. Meanwhile, Noah and Claire are headed for the street. Noah assures his adopted daughter (in a rather popular line) that everything will be alright as long as he's armed (and dangerous). By this time, Phoebe and Hiro find themselves safely teleported to the Petrelli garden--along with the unconscious Petrelli brothers. Heidi comes out into the garden and ministers to Nathan while Phoebe, looking after Peter, tries to tell her the truth about what is going on. Heidi sends Hiro to find Wyatt and a First Aid kit. Nathan finally wakes up, but frightens Phoebe and Heidi with his weakness. Meanwhile, Noah and Claire reach the street from the painting, only to discover it deserted. Noah suspects that the Mendez painting was tampered with and believes that Angela had something to do with it. He also becomes worried for Sasha, who was left with Angela. At the Petrelli place, Hiro takes a First Aid kit to Heidi and Phoebe, then finds Wyatt, who seems to know something of what is going on. Wyatt declares that the hospitals are being watched. As he and Hiro make their way to the garden, Peter wakes up. While he is checking on Nathan, Hiro and Wyatt enter the garden. Wyatt tells everyone about the hospitals being watched. When Phoebe asks what is going on, Wyatt is evasive, which sends Peter in a panicky rage. The younger Petrelli is instantly on his feet, grabbing hold of Wyatt and demanding answers...

Wow. A lot happened in that last chapter.

**Chapter Eighteen (Collision Course)**

"Calm down, Peter." Wyatt gently removed his arms from Peter's grasp. "The hospitals are being watched. Someone knows about what happened at the mall, and they know Nathan needs help." He sighed, dark eyes sad. "And they don't want him to get help."

"What!?" Peter ran a shaky hand through his hair. "We can't let them stop us, whoever they are! Nathan needs a hospital!"

"I'll be fine, Pete," Nathan spoke up, making an attempt to lift his head. "It's just a bad scratch, like I said before."

"Yeah, look at yourself, Nathan," Peter countered. "You're pale as death. You've got a high fever, and you still haven't stopped bleeding. That's serious, man." He quickly knelt at his brother's side and helped him sit up, supporting him with Heidi's assistance. "You've gotta take it easy till we get you to a hospital."

"We're not taking him to a hospital," said Wyatt firmly.

"Wyatt!" Phoebe practically wailed. "What are we going to _do _then?" She put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin. "If we have to fight off every villain in the state of New York, we're getting Nathan to a hospital."

Peter, Nathan, Heidi, and Hiro all glanced at Phoebe with raised eyebrows.

Phoebe swallowed, blushing lightly at the fervor of her outburst, and turned to look at Nathan. "You're my _friend_, Nathan," she told him quietly. "And I'll see you get well if it's the last thing I do."

"I appreciate that, Phoebe," Nathan replied with a weak smile. "But I won't have you--or _anyone_ _else_--" he glanced quickly at Peter-- "doing anything stupid on my behalf."

"Would you young people listen to me!?" Wyatt exclaimed, jerking their attention back to him. "I'm trying to tell you that we don't _have _to take Nathan to a hospital."

"Yes, we do," Heidi protested.

"What do you mean, Wyatt?" Hiro asked, ignoring Heidi and squinting curiously at the older man.

"I know someone who has a special gift," said Wyatt quietly. "Just like I can see the past and you, my little friend, can travel through time, this person can heal wounds."

Nathan glanced sharply at Wyatt. "Heal wounds? Like Linderman?"

Heidi sucked in a breath, eyes wide with surprise.

"Yes," said Wyatt softly. "Will you listen to me now?"

Peter nodded emphatically. "Tell us where this person is! We need their help!"

* * *

Claire held her breath. From the steady sound of silence, she gathered that her father was doing the same. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat. _I'd rather be flinging myself endlessly off of water towers, _she thought dryly. _Waiting in silence and hoping the bad guys don't find you… That's not any fun at all._

"It'll be alright, Claire," Noah spoke up suddenly, reaching to place his hand over hers. "I don't think they'll find us here."

Claire opened her eyes and looked at him sideways. "I hope not." She grinned suddenly, realizing the humor of the situation. "We're parked in somebody's garage."

Noah raised an eyebrow. "Good thing they're not home, eh, Claire-bear?"

Suddenly, there came a jangling noise, Noah's cell phone. He quickly flipped it open and held it to his ear. "Hello? What!? Are they alright? Well _that's _good to know. At least… What did you say? Oh I know who's behind all this. It makes perfect sense. Actually, we're kind of trapped right now. They've got someone following us. Alright. We'll try to find you as soon as we can." With a grimace, he closed the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.

"Dad?" Claire's worried eyes fixed on his face as she tried to read his emotions. "What's going on?"

Noah hesitated, looking askance at her, then he sighed. "There's been some trouble, Claire-bear."

"Trouble? What do you mean?" Claire asked, leaning toward him.

"That was Peter on the phone," Noah explained. "They're taking Nathan Petrelli to a healer.""What!?" Claire frowned in confusion. "Why aren't they taking him to a hospital?"

"It would seem the hospitals are being watched," Noah said quietly.

"Watched?" Claire sat back in her seat. "Of course…" She sighed. "They shot Nathan, so they know to look for us at the hospitals. Wow. This is just great."

Noah sighed heavily. "I think I should call them back and let them know who's behind this."

Claire nodded, her eyes full of sadness. "You should. It won't be easy for them to hear, though."

"The truth rarely is," said Noah, opening his cell phone.

All of a sudden, the roar of a car engine ripped through the relative silence of night. Headlights flashed in the distance.

Noah quickly pocketed the phone. "That will have to wait. We need to get out of here."

* * *

Phoebe stood with her arms crossed, biting her lip, as she watched Hiro and Peter help Nathan into the Petrelli house. She gave a mental prayer of thanks that Nathan was actually conscious and able to walk, albeit with assistance. The condition of her friend weighed heavily on her spirit, and she wondered if, somehow, she could have done something to prevent his injury. As Phoebe mulled over the thoughts in her head, she suddenly got the feeling that someone was watching her. As she refocused her vision, she realized it was Heidi. 

"What?" Phoebe asked, facing the other woman, suddenly defensive. Something about Heidi had always made her feel uncomfortable.

"You actually believe all of this, don't you?" Heidi remarked, her voice breathless with incredulity. "You, Nathan, Peter, Wyatt, the little Asian guy… You all believe it."

"After what you've seen and heard, why don't you?" Phoebe countered.

Heidi narrowed her eyes on Phoebe. "I haven't seen very much. But I've heard enough." She started toward the back door.

"Wait!" Phoebe called sharply.

Heidi spun to face her, hands on her hips.

"Watch," Phoebe ordered firmly. She nodded toward the First Aid kit, which was lying beneath a rosebush. Slowly, she stretched out her hand toward it.

"What are you doing?" Heidi asked shrilly.

"This," said Phoebe. Reaching out with her will, she gave a tug on the kit. It came flying through the air, landing in her outstretched hand. She turned to Heidi with a smug smile. "Here." Then she gave the kit a toss.

Eyes wide with shock, Heidi caught it.

"So? What do you believe now?" Phoebe asked, raising one dark eyebrow.

Heidi hesitated, mouth opened slightly. Then she quickly closed it. "I believe you're a little too much like Peter," Heidi declared. "It's scary, really." And with that, she turned and walked through the back door, carrying the First Aid kit close to her heart.

Phoebe stood still in the garden, green eyes wide. Somehow, that was not the reaction she had expected from Heidi… _Oh, well. _With a shrug, she followed the other woman into the house, wondering if she and Heidi would ever get along.

* * *

"Where's Wyatt, and why is he taking so long?" Peter fretted, pacing up in down in front of his brother, who was slumped against the pillows of the couch. 

"Calm down, Pete," Nathan cautioned. "I don't think it would impress Phoebe very much if you exploded in my living room." He glanced around with a mock grimace. "And just think how much it would cost me to reupholster the place." The fake grimace turned real, and he reached to touch his aching arm. "Ow!"

"Nathan!" Peter quickly plopped on the couch beside his brother. "Are you alright?"

"Sure." Nathan closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch.

"You don't have to say that to make me feel better," said Peter softly, reaching to touch Nathan's forehead. "I'm your brother."

"I feel like crap," Nathan amended with a half smile.

Peter grinned crookedly. "That's more like the brother I know and love."

Nathan's smile faded, and he gave Peter a pat on the shoulder. "We've been through a lot together, Pete. I just hope we both make it through this one."

Peter frowned. "Of course we will, Nathan. I won't let anything happen to you."

"It's not me I'm worried about," said Nathan sharply. "I don't want you to let anything happen to yourself."

Peter was silent, meeting his brother's gaze steadily.

"Peter…" Nathan groaned and leaned his head back against the pillows, closing his tired eyes.

At that moment, Phoebe and Heidi burst into the living room, Heidi with a strange look on her face.

"What's going on?" Peter asked, standing quickly.

"Phoebe just… showed me something," said Heidi, glancing askance at the younger girl. Before Peter could question her further, she held up a hand. "I believe it now--all of it, everything."

Keeping his eyes closed, Nathan asked, "What did you show her, Phoebe?"

"What I can do," said Phoebe casually.

"She showed me how she can--"

The other door to the living room opened suddenly, and someone swept into the room.

Peter turned around quickly, eyes widening. "Mom?"

Angela Petrelli glanced around quickly. "Where's Claire?"

"She's not here," Peter said quickly.

Heidi frowned. "Who's Claire? What's going on?"

"You mean she doesn't know!" Phoebe exclaimed in horror, turning to the Petrelli brothers, her sympathy arousing slightly for Heidi.

"And who are you?" Angela asked sharply, narrowing her eyes on the blond-haired girl.

"She's Phoebe," said Peter, reaching to place a hand on Phoebe's shoulder. "She's with me."

"I see." Angela raised an eyebrow. "Phoebe _Agnew_, I presume?"

Phoebe frowned, moving closer to Peter, intimidated by this woman whose jacket probably cost more money than the Agnews made in a year. "Yes. How did you know?"

"I have my ways of finding things out," said Angela walking further into the room. "I suggest you all come with me this instant."

"Mom, Nathan's hurt," Peter told her, eyes wide. "We're taking him to--to someone who can help us."

Angela crossed her arms and frowned at her son. "Oh really?"

"Yeah, if Wyatt and Hiro ever get back in here," Peter told her worriedly. He glanced down at Nathan. "I'd better go ahead and change that bandage before we go." He gave Phoebe's shoulder a quick squeeze, then sat down on the couch beside his brother. "Hand me that First Aid kit, Heidi."

"His bandage needs changing already?" Heidi asked fearfully, handing him the kit. Mercifully, she had forgotten all about Claire.

"Yeah. His arm's still bleeding pretty badly," Peter muttered. Holding the kit in one hand, he started unbuttoning Nathan's shirt. "He needs some good stitches, honestly."

"Here. Let me help," said Phoebe. She took the little box out of Peter's hand and sat down on the other side of Nathan, meeting the younger Petrelli's eyes.

"Thanks, Phoebe," said Peter with a warm smile. He soon finished unbuttoning Nathan's shirt and gently helped his brother slide his injured arm out of the sleeve. "Open that thing up and hand me some of those antiseptic wipes."

"Gotcha." Phoebe quickly opened the kit and obeyed.

"Let me get you a towel," said Heidi. "And maybe a wet cloth?"

"Yeah, that would be nice," Peter told her. "Thanks."

"Alright." Heidi reached to touch her husband's cheek in a swift, awkward movement, then quickly exited the room.

"So what are you doing here, Mom?" Peter asked his mother curiously.

Nathan opened his eyes wearily and raised one eyebrow at her.

Angela lifted her chin and met her sons' eyes unflinchingly. "I'm here because I'm worried about my sons."

"If you were worried about your sons, you'd be helping us bandage Nathan's arm," Phoebe muttered under her breath. At least, she _thought _she had muttered it under her breath. From the stricken looks on the faces of Peter and Nathan Petrelli, she realized that she had made a big mistake. She looked up at Angela with huge green eyes. "I'm sorry. That didn't--that didn't… I didn't mean to say that… aloud… I mean…Uhm…" She winced and shut her eyes. _Just shut your mouth, Phoebe. _

"You fit right in with this family, don't you, Phoebe?" the woman asked acidly. "We've all got sharp tongues here."

"Leave the girl alone, Ma," Nathan spoke up sharply before anyone else could, narrowing his eyes on his mother. "She's got a lot of sense. If it weren't for her, I doubt any of us would be here."

"So quick to defend her, Nathan." Angela settled regally into a nearby chair. "Is she your woman?"

"She's mine," Peter said quickly. When the others stared at him, he stammered, "I mean, she's… with me... She's… We're really good friends, really close, like… We just met the other day, and…"

"And she and I are just friends," Nathan rescued him. "She's Peter's girl."

_Peter's girl. _Phoebe smiled involuntarily, blushing when Nathan winked at her. _I like that--Peter's girl._

"She had better be."

The others looked up to see Heidi entering the room with a towel and a hand cloth.

"Heidi--" Nathan started.

"Nathan, don't tell me she's the blond from Vegas," Heidi interrupted him coldly. She turned angry eyes on Phoebe. "Are you Peter's 'doctor' from Las Vegas?"

Phoebe's eyebrows shot up. "I honestly don't have a clue what you're talking about. I just met Peter a few days ago. And he and I are--" She bit her lip and looked at Peter with wide, pleading eyes. _What _are _we, Peter? Could you figure it out really quickly and tell her for me?_

Suddenly, Hiro Nakamura burst into the room, smiling brightly. "Car is ready! Come! We must help Flying Man!"

Wyatt followed the little Asian man into the room. As soon as he saw Angela seated there, he drew in a harsh breath and took a step backward.

"Hello, Wyatt," said Angela smoothly, standing. "What's the matter with you?"


	19. For the Flying Man

Thanks to all my readers and reviewers! You keep me going!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Wyatt convinces Peter that it will be best to take Nathan to a nearby healer. Meanwhile, Claire and HRG are hiding out in someone's garage. They have shaken their stalker. They get a phone call from Peter, who tells them what is going on with Nathan, and Noah decides it is best to meet up with the others. Back in the Petrelli garden, the other men have taken Nathan inside, leaving Phoebe and Heidi together. Phoebe attempts to convince Heidi of the truth, finally showing the other woman her telekinetic skill. In the house, Peter and Nathan give each other brotherly, overprotective advice. Phoebe and Heidi come inside--just before Angela makes a grand entrance. As he begins rebandaging his brother's arm, Peter explains to her what is going on. Phoebe blurts out something sharp to Angela, who quickly retorts. When Nathan jumps to Phoebe's defense, Angela gets the idea that Phoebe is his mistress, which Peter awkwardly refutes. Heidi, who was sent to get a wet cloth, reenters just in time to hear the conversation. She swiftly gets the mistaken idea that Phoebe is the blond from Las Vegas who was messing around with Nathan. While Phoebe is trying to defend herself, Hiro and Wyatt burst in. Hiro, cheerful and oblivious, rescues Phoebe by announcing that Wyatt's car is ready and they can now transport Nathan to the healer. As soon as Wyatt and Angela see each other, the air is filled with animosity...

**Chapter Nineteen (For the Flying Man)**

"Peter, get your brother out to my car. Hiro will show you the way." Wyatt stood very still, narrowing his dark eyes on Angela.

"Come on, Nathan." Peter helped his brother back into the shirt. "Let's get you to the car." He stood and reached to gently pull Nathan to his feet. "Phoebe… Get his other arm."

"Got it." Phoebe stood and quickly supported Nathan on the other side, glad to be of use.

"Nathan…?" Heidi stood watching them, arms crossed, eyes wide, as she handed the towel and cloth to Phoebe, for whom she spared a curious, suspicious glance.

"You stay here, Heidi," her husband told her with a quick, weak smile. "I'll be fine."

"I want to go with you," she protested.

"It's safer for you if you stay," Nathan said, his firm voice contrasting with the paleness of his face.

Heidi opened her mouth as if to protest, then closed it and nodded.

Slowly and carefully, Peter and Phoebe made their way to the door with Nathan supported between them, following Hiro, who glanced nervously over his shoulder. As they went out the door, Phoebe glanced back to see Wyatt and Angela still staring at each other, glaring, while Heidi stood with her hands clasped in front of her, her head tilted to one side, doubt and fear mingled in her eyes.

* * *

"I think we've lost them." 

At her father's words, Claire Bennet looked over her shoulder, sighing in relief at the sight of an empty street. "Good." She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, trying to seem calmer than she really felt. Her insides were knotted with fear--not for herself, but for her biological father, Nathan Petrelli, for her uncle, Peter Petrelli, and for her new friends, Phoebe, Hiro, and Sasha, who were all probably in quite a bit of danger.

"They'll be just fine, Claire," Noah spoke up, as if perhaps he had read her mind. "They've all got powers. They can take care of themselves."

"Dad, not everyone with powers can take care of themselves," Claire told him quietly. "What about Brad, Sasha's fiancé?"

Noah worked his jaw, tightening his hands on the wheel. "They can help each other, Claire-bear. Don't worry about them."

Claire sighed, annoyed, and shifted in the seat. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"To the healer," Noah told her.

Claire's feelings brightened. "We're going to meet up with the others?"

"We certainly are," said Noah, glancing at her sideways. "I think we'll be safest if we stick together."

"Good. Me, too." Claire crossed her arms and looked at him sideways. "Did they tell you how to get there?"

Noah raised an eyebrow. "Actually, no. But I know exactly who they're talking about." He flipped on his turning signal and began to turn the wheel. "Don't worry, Claire-bear. We'll all be together soon--and hopefully safe."

Then Claire frowned. "But… What about Sasha?"

* * *

Darkness… Everything was dark… Of course. It was always dark. 

But this time it was cold. And Sasha suddenly realized that she had no clue where she was. The last thing she remembered was Angela Petrelli fixing her a glass of milk…

"Hello there, Sasha."

Sasha sat up. The floor was cold and hard beneath her, like cement, or gritty marble. "Who--who are you?" she asked breathlessly, wrapping her arms around her body.

The answer was a low, cruel laugh.

"Where am I?" Sasha asked frantically, reaching around for something, anything. All she felt was nothing. "Are you still there?" she asked of the mysterious man.

Her answer this time was silence.

* * *

Phoebe sat quietly in Wyatt's car, flanked by Peter and the door. She felt shaken inside from the scene she had just witnessed in the Petrellis' house. Angela and Wyatt were both definitely hiding something. And Heidi had no clue who Claire was and possibly suspected that Phoebe was Nathan's mistress… With a sigh, Phoebe glanced around the vehicle. Peter was looking straight ahead, his eyes distant. Nathan was leaning back against the seat, staring out the window with tired eyes. Hiro sat in the front passenger's seat, looking with interest at all the buttons and dials on the dashboard. 

"What's keeping Wyatt?" Nathan muttered.

"Mom," said Peter quietly. "I'm not really sure why."

Hiro glanced quickly at the clock on the dashboard. "Wyatt say that if he not here in five minute, we go without him. He tell me where to go." He turned to face his three friends with wide, worried eyes.

"How many minutes do we have left?" Phoebe asked impatiently. She did not like the thought of Nathan Petrelli bleeding to death in the back seat of a parked car--or anywhere else, for that matter.

"One," said Hiro.

"That's it. I'm driving," said Phoebe, quickly reaching to unbuckle her seatbelt.

"I hope you are good driver, Phoebe Agnew," Hiro remarked as she started to slide out of the backseat.

She tossed him a grin before closing the back door of the car and walking to the front. "I'm an excellent driver," she told him, sliding into the driver's seat.

"Like my friend Ando," said Hiro with a small smile.

Phoebe fancied there was a touch of homesickness in that grin. "Just give me the directions, and I'll take us there," she said to the little Asian man.

"It is very easy to find," Hiro told her as she put the car in gear. "Wyatt say to take third street to left, then second street to right. It is eleventh house on right."

"Convenient," Nathan muttered.

"Thanks, Hiro." Phoebe glanced back at the Petrelli brothers, flashing them what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "I'll get us there as fast as possible." Then she frowned and turned to Hiro. "Hiro, why don't you teleport us there?"

"I teleport so much today, I do not know if I have strength enough," Hiro told her forlornly.

"Alright then." Phoebe pressed her foot on the gas and steered the car out into the street. "Here goes nothing."

A few minutes later, Phoebe parked the car in front of the eleventh house on the right. As she began to quickly unbuckle, she glanced over her shoulder at the Petrelli brothers. "You hanging in there, Nathan?" she asked him concernedly.

Nathan flashed her a tired smile. "I'm still alive if that's what you mean." Then he sighed and leaned his head back again, closing his weary eyes.

Peter and Phoebe exchanged a worried glance.

"Stay there, Nathan," Peter said, quickly unbuckling. "I'll come around and get you on the other side. Okay?"

Nathan gave a grim chuckle. "I'm not going anywhere." As Peter exited the car, the elder Petrelli brother quickly met Phoebe's eyes. "Phoebe, if anything happens to me, you have to take care of him. Do you hear me?"

Phoebe nodded slowly. "I hear you, Nathan." They exchanged affectionate, understanding smiles. Then Phoebe shook her head. "But nothing's going to happen to you. It's your turn to be taken care of."

"That is true, Flying Man," Hiro put in with a smile. "We take care of you!"

* * *

"There they are! There they are!" Claire exclaimed, pointing excitedly. "You were right, Dad! They're here!" She bit her lip, fighting to control her emotions as she watched Peter and Hiro helping Nathan out of the backseat. "He doesn't look like he's doing well, does he?" she asked her adoptive father quietly. 

"He'll be alright, Claire," said Noah, his voice low. "We're at the healer's house, you know."

"I know." Claire sighed and unbuckled her seatbelt. "I'm going in with them." As she started to open the door, she noticed that Noah was not moving. "Aren't you coming?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow.

Noah gave her a half smile. "I think I'll sit this one out, Claire-bear. And besides, someone needs to keep watch." His smile widened. "I doubt any of the others thought about that."

Claire grinned. "I doubt it, too. Well… I'll be right back." She quickly slipped out of the car and headed toward the others, who were nearing the front door of the house. "Peter! Phoebe! Wait up!" she called.

Phoebe turned, greeting Claire with a smile. "Hey, girl! It's about time you joined us!" She held out a hand.

Claire ran to the older girl and quickly took her hand. Something about Phoebe always made her feel welcomed. _Phoebe is perfect for Peter. _"How's… Nathan?" Claire asked quickly.

Phoebe's smile slackened somewhat. "He'll be alright once this healer gets hold of him," she told Claire quietly. "Don't worry, Claire." She squeezed her friend's hand. "Everything is going to work out just--"

"No one home!" came Hiro's wail from ahead of the girls.

Claire and Phoebe winced.

"So much for the 'everything working out' part," Claire muttered.

"Are you sure there's no one in there?" Phoebe asked as the girls caught up with the guys.

"I keep knocking and knocking, but no one has come to the door," Peter told her, eyes round with worry. "I think the doorbell is broken. Look at it."

The girls leaned around the guys to take a gander at the doorbell. The button looked smashed in, as if someone had pressed it with incredible force.

"Something's not right here…" Phoebe murmured, reaching to touch the doorbell.

"Wait! Don't touch it!" Peter exclaimed, catching her hand in his. "Allow me." He slipped Nathan's arm around Phoebe's shoulders and moved to stand in front of the doorbell. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reaching to place both hands over the damaged mechanism. As soon as his fingers touched its surface, he gasped, tilting his head back, his lips pressed tightly together, his eyes squeezed shut.

"What is he doing?" Claire whispered to Phoebe.

"He's seeing the past," Phoebe replied with an anxious frown. "He did this once before, and then he passed out on us. I hope he doesn't do that this time."

"Me, neither," spoke up a breathless Nathan. "Because then you'd have _two _unconscious Petrellis on your hands--again."

"Nathan?" Phoebe turned her head to face him, her voice sharp with worry. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head, his face ashen. "No." Then he shuddered convulsively, pressing his lips together to keep from groaning aloud.

"Hiro, help me set him down," Phoebe ordered quickly. The two of them gently lowered Nathan to a sitting position on the ground. "Claire, go get that wet cloth out of the car," Phoebe told the younger girl as she drew Nathan gently to her shoulder. "And hurry!"

As Claire rushed toward the car, she could hear Phoebe's voice behind her, calling, "Nathan! Look at me! Stay with me!" The cheerleader's heartbeat skipped, and she ran faster. As she was jerking open the door of the car, she heard Noah call to her, "Claire, what is it?"

"It's Nathan! I think he's gonna pass out!" she cried, searching the back seat frantically for the cloth. "And the healer's not at home!" She heard her adoptive father swear and the door of the other car slam. "Dad, we have to _do something_!"

Meanwhile, Peter Petrelli was experiencing a disturbing past. As he suspected, the doorbell had been broken by none other than Sylar. Angry at not getting an answer, the villain had simply smashed the device with telekinesis. Then, Sylar had entered the house. Quickly, Peter's vision shifted, and he saw the healer--an older man with thick, round glasses. The healer looked up as soon as he heard Sylar walk into the house. The first thing he did was grab a painting off the wall and slide it under the couch. Peter was frustrated when he could not see the painting. From his brief glimpse of it, it had looked like something Isaac might have painted…

"Peter!" Phoebe's wail echoed through the vision, and it blurred.

"Wait!" Peter called to her. "I have to see the--"

The vision faded as Sylar and the healer stood face to face, both without fear.

Peter shook his head to clear his vision, then spun around to find his friends. To his surprise, they were not standing right behind him. Then he saw that Phoebe, Claire, and Hiro were clustered on the ground around Nathan. Noah stood behind them, pacing, his cell phone tight to his ear, muttering to himself when he got no answer from whatever line he was calling.

"Peter! We have to _do _something!" Phoebe cried, meeting his eyes. She was holding Nathan against her shoulder, stroking his forehead gently with the wet cloth. Her eyes practically screamed at Peter to do something.

Nathan's eyes were half closed, his face a deathly pale. He seemed to be completely unaware of what was going on around him.

"Nathan!" Peter exclaimed, flinging himself to his knees by his brother's side. He gently took Nathan out of Phoebe's arms, drawing his brother close to his chest, close to his heart. "Come on, man, look at me!" Softly, he tapped the side of his brother's face, his heart clenching in fear when Nathan did not respond. "Don't go into shock on me, Nathan!"

Nathan muttered something under his breath and shivered, closing his eyes.

"What's wrong with him!?" Claire cried, her eyes shiny with tears. "His wound isn't that bad."

"He's got a really bad fever," Peter told her, trying to keep his voice under control. "I think he's lost too much blood." Gently, he touched his brother's wounded arm. "And he's _still_ bleeding. I think he's going into shock." He glanced at the closed door of the healer's house. "We need to get him inside. Hiro, teleport into the house and make sure it's safe."

Hiro nodded. "I am on it," he said, bounding to his feet and disappearing. Moments later, he reappeared, his face pinched with concern for the Flying Man. "Is safe inside," he announced.

"Good. Open that door for me," said Peter, standing and taking Nathan with him. For a moment, Nathan got his feet under him, then suddenly his knees buckled, and he gave a small gasp of pain. "Easy, Nathan," Peter murmured soothingly to his brother, who was nearly passed out. "I've got you." Carefully, he lifted his brother into his arms and carried him toward the door, which Hiro was opening. As he carried Nathan into the house, he called back, "Phoebe, Claire--there's a painting hidden under the couch. I think it's one of Isaac's. Get it out for me."

"Okay," Phoebe responded, shaken but not shattered. She linked her arm with Claire's and led the younger girl into the house, where they commenced to searching under the couch for the painting.

"Here it is!" Claire exclaimed, as she and Phoebe slid the picture out from under the couch.

"Good! Bring it here!" Peter called to them, carrying Nathan further into the house in search of a bedroom. He finally found one and carefully laid his brother down on the bed. "Hang in there, Nathan," he whispered to him, gently touching his brother's face.

Nathan's tired eyes met his Peter's for a moment, then slid shut, his body going still, save for the shuddering rise and fall of his chest.

"I'm gonna take care of you, Nathan," Peter told him quietly, though he doubted Nathan could hear him, pulling a blanket up over the unconscious form. He quickly moved to prop up his brother's feet with pillows, then took Nathan's hand, placing nervous fingers over the weak beat of his pulse.

At that moment, Claire, Phoebe, and Hiro burst into the bedroom, the girls bearing a painting between them. "Look, Peter!" Claire exclaimed. "It's me!" With Phoebe's help, she quickly laid the painting on the bed beside Nathan.

Peter stood and looked down on the painting, his eyes widening. "I though it might be something like this," he said, brushing a wayward bang behind one ear. "These things tend to work out." He looked up and met Claire's eyes. "Let's get started."


	20. Back to Business

Massive loads of gratitude to my faithful readers/reviewers!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Under Wyatt's orders, Peter, Phoebe, and Hiro get Nathan out to the gardener's car while the gardener himself stares down Angela Petrelli and Heidi is told to stay behind. Meanwhile, Noah reveals to Claire that they are going to meet up with the others at the healer's house. Claire wonders about Sasha. The blind hero is trapped by an unknown man who seems definitely evil. Back to the Petrellis and crew, Hiro tells the brothers and Phoebe that Wyatt told him to continue to the healer's house if he wasn't out in five minutes. Phoebe, as impatient as her boyfriend, decides to drive, and they all meet up at the healer's house. Unfortunately, no one is home. Peter gets a post-cog vision of Sylar attacking the healer--and catches a glimpse of an Isaac Mendez painting being hidden under the couch. While Peter is in vision-mode, Nathan starts going into shock on the front lawn(Hmmm... Wonder why? He's only been bleeding for like SIX CHAPTERS!). Phoebe calls to Peter as she tends to his brother, awakening the younger Petrelli from his trance. Peter takes Nathan from Phoebe and orders Hiro to check out the house. Hiro teleports inside, then back out, declaring it safe and unlocking the door. Peter carries Nathan into the house and into a bedroom, laying him down on the bed, where poor Nathan promptly passes out. Peter tells Phoebe and Claire to find the painting, which they do. It seems as if it might have something to do with Claire and Nathan...

**Chapter Twenty (Back to Business)**

As Claire rushed out of the bedroom, Phoebe moved to stand close to Peter, wrapping an arm around his slender waist as she stared down at the Isaac Mendez painting. In comic book style, the painting depicted Claire standing over Nathan. In the first part of the picture, the cheerleader's finger was dripping blood, and she appeared to be deliberately positioning the drip over the deep gash in Nathan's upper arm. In the second half, Nathan was sitting up, surrounded by Peter, Claire, Phoebe, and Hiro, and they were all smiling.

"I like this painting," Phoebe said quietly. "Especially the second part."

"Let's just hope it works," said Peter replied, leaning his head against hers.

"It will work," Hiro spoke up with a confident smile. "Mr. Isaac was very good artist. His power very strong."

Claire came hurrying back into the bedroom, carrying a butcher knife. "Are you guys ready for this?" she asked the others.

"I cannot look," said Hiro, covering his eyes with his small hands.

Phoebe nodded. "I'm ready." She would be too curious to turn away, she knew.

"Let's do it," said Peter firmly. He slipped out of Phoebe's embrace and sat on the bed beside his brother, swiftly unbuttoning Nathan's shirt and drawing the wounded arm out of its blood-soaked sleeve. Nathan moaned softly, his face momentarily clenched in pain, but he remained still and unconscious. "Here you go, Claire," said Peter, meeting his niece's eyes as he undid the bloody bandage from Nathan's arm.

Claire moved to the bedside of her biological father, and Peter stepped back into Phoebe's arms.

"Are you done yet?" Hiro asked, keeping his hands over his eyes.

"Not yet," said Claire softly. She held her hand over Nathan's arm, then brought down the knife across her forefinger, wincing slightly. Then she tilted her sliced finger toward Nathan's wound.

Phoebe held her breath as the first drop of Claire's blood fell, landing directly on the gash in Nathan's arm.

Everyone waited.

Nothing happened.

Claire turned worried eyes to Phoebe and Peter. "Why isn't it working?"

Hiro lowered his hands, his eyes quickly taking in Nathan's stillness. "Why is Flying Man not awake?"

"I don't know," said Peter, his voice trembling slightly. He moved to stand by his brother's side. "Come on, Nathan. You've just _got _to pull through." He reached down and took his brother's hand, bowing his head, his shoulders shuddering as he drew in a shaky breath.

Then, Nathan's eyelids fluttered, his skin slowly beginning to glow with warm color.

"Peter!" Phoebe exclaimed, stepping forward. "I think he's--"

"Nathan!" Peter exclaimed, snapping his head up as his brother's eyes opened.

* * *

Noah Bennet sighed and shifted in the seat with impatience. He wondered if perhaps he should join the others in the house of the healer. They would probably forget all about him if he remained outside. It had been a mistake to get back in the car. Muttering to himself, he reached for the door handle. Then, suddenly, a thought hit him.

Sasha.

He remembered what Claire had said to him: "What about Sasha?"

His reply had been, "She'll be fine. Right now, let's focus on the others. To quote your brother's favorite Star Trek movie, 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.'"

Noah swore. What if the fate of the world hinged on the "needs of the few?" He hurriedly exited his car, slamming the door behind him, annoyed at himself. Of course Angela Petrelli would have done something with Sasha. The woman's ties to the Company were undeniable. And the Company had never been able to resist taking prisoners.

* * *

"I could kill you right now if I wanted to," said the soft, soothing male voice.

Sasha shivered.

"Yes. I could kill you right now. But I won't." He was moving, Sasha could tell from the rustle of clothing, pacing perhaps. "They would know you were dead, and then they'd never come for you. No, killing you now won't work. But I'm curious… What can you do?"

Sasha drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them, rocking slowly. "I'm not telling you."

"You sense things with touch, don't you?" Her captor was suddenly very close. She could feel his warmth. "Too bad I killed your boyfriend, the nerve manipulator." There was a low, cold chuckle, and Sasha wanted to cry. "The two of you might have produced powerful offspring. You know, the most powerful of us tend to come from strongly gifted blood. Think about it. You know the Petrellis, don't you?"

Sasha turned her head from the sound of his voice, squeezing her blind eyes shut and pressing her lips together.

"Aren't you going to talk to me, Sasha?" The man wrapped a hand around her slender upper arm, and she could suddenly sense what he looked like--a younger man, dark of hair and eye. He looked perfectly normal, but he felt… Sasha gagged at the overpowering sensation of the evil that flowed through his veins.

"Sylar," she whispered.

She could feel his wicked smile. "Yes. That's me. Aren't you going to say more than that?"  
Sasha lifted her head and turned her face to where she sensed his to be. "This floor is hard. And cold. And I _hate _you."

He laughed, releasing her. She could hear him stand and walk away.

Then, finally, Sasha started to cry.

* * *

"You don't know what you've done," said Wyatt, his voice a low, angry rumble.

"I know exactly what I've done," Angela replied, crossing her arms and turning from him. She faced Heidi now, narrowing her eyes on the younger woman. "Heidi, I suggest you go upstairs and get some sleep. It's late."

"But… Nathan's… out there," Heidi protested weakly, motioning toward the door.

"And I doubt he's coming back tonight," said Angela. "Go to bed, Heidi."

Heidi looked from Angela to Wyatt and back again, then nodded, smiling wanly. "You're right. I'm tired. I think I'll go get some rest." Then she turned and walked with uncertain steps out of the living room.

"Just who do you think you are?" Wyatt asked Angela, frowning heavily at her.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "I _know _who I am. And I think you do, as well. What changed you, Wyatt?" She peered closely at him. "You once believed as I do."

Wyatt slowly shook his head. "_Everything _has changed for me. I've come to realize what it is you're up to, you and all your friends. And I don't think you even realize everything that's going on."

Both her eyebrows were raised now. "Oh?"

"'Oh' is right, Mrs. Petrelli," said Wyatt sternly. "Don't you know that your 'friends' are working with Sylar?"

For a moment, Angela allowed unpleasant surprise to touch her features, then she quickly recovered. "What do you know about all this?"

"I've seen what's going on," said Wyatt. "Your friends have an ugly past."

* * *

Nathan opened his eyes and took a deep breath. The throbbing pain and unrelenting weakness were gone. He no longer felt as if he would either burn or shiver to death. As his senses began to clear, he heard Peter's unmistakable shout of, "Nathan!"

"Peter?" Nathan's mouth felt numb, as if from disuse, as it formed the name. A strange and sudden sense of well-being flooded his veins. Slowly, he sat up, his vision focusing on the bright, tear-dampened brown eyes of his younger brother. "Did the healer… heal me?"

"No, Claire did. The healer… I think maybe Sylar killed him." Peter's eyes darkened for a moment, then lit up with pride as he glanced at his niece. "But we found a painting Isaac did, and it showed how Claire could heal you." He looked back at Nathan with an awed smile. "She used her own blood," he said quickly, looking as if he were going to… explode… from happiness.

"Claire?" Nathan frowned in concentration as he forced his tired eyes to focus and looked around the unfamiliar bedroom. Claire was standing at the foot of the bed, arms folded across her chest, watching him with wide eyes. "Thank-you, Claire," he managed, his voice slightly hoarse.

She nodded quickly, nervously he thought. "You're welcome."

"Nathan, I'm so glad you're okay!" Peter exclaimed suddenly, wrapping his arms around his brother.

Nathan laughed softly and hugged him back. "I'm glad, too, Pete." He tightened his arms around the younger Petrelli, suddenly feeling as if _he _were the one about to explode from happiness. He closed his eyes and, for a moment, just relished the nearness of his little brother. Then he drew back slightly, smiling at Peter and patting the younger Petrelli's shoulder. Glancing over his brother's shoulder, he spotted Phoebe and Hiro, watching him.

"Glad to have you back," Phoebe said quietly.

Nathan flashed a smile at the girl he hoped with all his heart would be his future sister-in-law, the girl with whom he had established a warm, companionable, and unexpected bond. "Thanks, Phoebe." _If I could paint my future, I'd hope to paint you there._

Her reply was a quick nod and a warm smile.

"I knew Flying Man would not stay down for long!" Hiro proclaimed confidently.

Nathan tightened his grip on the shoulders of Peter, who seemed completely overcome by emotion. "I appreciate your confidence, Hiro." _You have no idea how much your confidence in me encourages me._

"Vote Petrelli!" Hiro declared, brandishing a fist in the air.

Peter finally stepped away from Nathan, eyes still wide and shiny with awe and gladness. "I love you, man," he said gruffly, placing a hand on Nathan's shoulder.

"I love you, too, Pete," said Nathan with feeling. With feeling. _Geez, Nathan. Calm down. You're the senior officer on board this ship. Keep your cool. _"So what do we--?" His sensible question was cut off by a blond-haired cheerleader flying into his arms.

"Oh, thank God you're alright!" Claire cried, burying her face in his shoulder.

Nathan raised his eyebrows and looked down at the illegitimate daughter in his arms. For a moment, a brief flash of time, he was unsure. Then he wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. "Thank-you, Claire," he whispered in her ear. "That's twice you've saved me now."

"I hate to interrupt, but I think we have a problem."

Everyone turned quickly to the voice in the doorway.

"What is it, Noah?" Peter asked quickly.

"I've been trying to call your apartment for the last five minutes, and no one is answering," Noah said.

"Sasha!" Claire exclaimed, slipping out of Nathan's arms and hopping off of the bed.

Phoebe stepped forward, wrapping her arms convulsively around herself. "Maybe--maybe she just didn't feel right answering Peter's phone?"

Peter moved to stand behind her, placing gentle protective hands on her shoulders.

"I imagine she would pick up eventually," Noah said, raising an eyebrow. "All that ringing would drive someone crazy."

"Could she have found the phone?" Nathan wondered aloud, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "She's blind, you know."

"She have good hearing. She would hear phone," Hiro commented, his eyes full of concern behind his glasses. "I hope she is okay."

Noah closed his eyes and sighed. "We left her with Angela Petrelli."

Nathan sucked in a sharp breath.

"That bad thing?" Hiro asked.

Nathan nodded. "That could be a very bad thing."

"Nathan, what's going on with Mom?" Peter asked, glancing at his brother over his shoulder.

"I'll tell you in the car," said Nathan, standing. "Because we're going back to your apartment."

"Come on, then," said Noah, turning toward the door. He stopped and turned to look at Claire. "You coming, Claire?"

"Yeah, Dad." Claire walked quietly to his side, smiling up at him as he placed an arm around her. As she walked with him through the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder and tossed Nathan a warm smile.

Nathan caught it and held it in his heart.

* * *

Phoebe threw the car in park in front of Peter's apartment building, jerking the keys to the off position and yanking them out of the ignition. She was bothered to notice that her hands were shaking. The memory of how close they had come to losing Nathan, a man whom she was swiftly coming to admire and respect, whom she considered a dear friend, and the thought that Sasha, her friend, the one who had loved her enough to invite her to New York city, was in similar danger were enough to shatter her confidence in the future.

"Phoebe, are you okay?" Peter asked her quickly as they climbed out of the car.

She met his eyes and bit her lip. Of course, he would notice how she felt. "I'll only be okay if Sasha's okay," she told him quietly.

Peter moved to her side and drew her to him, kissing her forehead softly. Then he turned to look at Hiro, keeping his arms around Phoebe. "Hiro. Check things out for us."

Hiro smiled and nodded. "Okay!" he exclaimed. Then he frowned hard, concentrating, and disappeared.

"It always makes me nervous when he does that," Nathan muttered from nearby.

Peter glanced at his brother in surprise. "You, too?"

"Yes," Nathan admitted sheepishly. "What if the little guy lost his way?" He gave his brother a crooked grin. "Some of us do that, you know."

Suddenly, Hiro was back, an exasperated look on his face.

"Was she there?" Claire asked quickly as she and Noah walked up to join the others.

"No." Hiro shook his head dejectedly. "I see nobody."

Peter glanced up at the building, drawing Phoebe closer. "Let's go up there. At least we can get some rest until we figure out how to find Sasha."

"Rest…" Phoebe sighed and leaned her head against Peter's shoulder. _I wish I could just… take a walk with you, Peter… Just you and me… Then maybe I could forget this whole mess for just a few minutes…_

Nathan met her eyes, interpreting perfectly what he saw there. "Come on, Hiro. Let's get up there." He winked at Phoebe, then turned to lead the others into the apartment building, leaving Peter and Phoebe alone in the parking lot.

As the four of them walked inside, Phoebe could hear Claire ask, "Where are Peter and Phoebe?"

Nathan replied, "Don't worry. They'll catch up." Then the doors closed behind them.

_Thanks, Nathan. _Phoebe closed her eyes and sighed. _I can always count on the Flying Man to work things out for me and Peter. Thank God we didn't lose him!_

"Do you wanna… take a walk?" Peter asked her quietly.

She drew back slightly from him and nodded, eyes wide. "I think so… If I don't, I think I might--"

"Explode?" Peter asked, the beginnings of a grin quirking his lips.

Phoebe nodded, biting her lip.

Peter took her hand and began walking, his hair waving softly in the cool night breeze. "I don't think any of us are going to do that anytime soon. At least, I hope not."

"You seem to be controlling your powers quite well," Phoebe told him as they walked around the corner of the apartment building.

"Yeah. Thanks to you and Nathan." He smiled crookedly at her. "Between the two of you, I think I'll be alright."

"Good," said Phoebe firmly, squeezing his hand.

As they neared the next corner, an elderly couple came into view, walking close and holding hands. At first, Phoebe was startled that they were out so late at night. Then, her heart melted at the looks in their eyes as their gazes met. She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, managing to smile at the couple as they passed. _Wow. That was… beautiful…_

She looked at Peter then, wondering what he would look like in forty years…

"Wow," said Peter. "That was… beautiful..."

Phoebe laughed suddenly, pleasantly shivery inside. Impulsively, passionately, she grabbed the collar of Peter's jacket and pushed him against the side of the building, leaning into him and capturing his lips with her own. At first, his eyes widened in surprise, then they closed, and he murmured blissfully against her lips, kissing her back. His arms came tightly around her, one hand sliding up her back to tangle in her hair.

As they continued the fervent kiss, Phoebe verified something within herself. _I am hopelessly, ridiculously, and passionately in love with you, Peter Petrelli._

_(A/N: _The next three chapters aren't exactly action-packed. They are mostly setting up for the final showdown, which means there are lots of revealing conversations, revelations of secrets, and relationship developments. You will also get to see what was in that ominous seventh sketch! Yay! Finally! Just thought I'd give you a bit of a preview, since we're getting so close to the end... The final showdown begins in chapter twenty-four and is supposed to conclude in chapter twenty-five... But you never know. Those heroes keep running away with my plot! ;) Marina)


	21. Resolve

I appreciate all those who read and all those who both read and review!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _While the wounded, unconscious Nathan awaits aid, the others check out the Mendez painting they found in the healer's house. It shows Claire using her blood to heal Nathan's arm. So Peter unbandages Nathan's arm, and Claire cuts her finger, letting her blood drip over the bullet wound. At first, nothing seems to be happening, then Nathan opens his eyes. Meanwhile, Noah, keeping watch outside, realizes that it's time to find out what happened to Sasah, who is being held captive by Sylar. At the Petrelli mansion, Wyatt confronts Angela about her ties to this new organization. She herself is surprised to learn that they are coopoerating with Sylar. Back at the healer's house, everyone is elated by Nathan's speedy recovery. Their joyous celebration is cut short, however, by Noah announcing that they have forgotten Sasha. So they head back to Peter's apartment, discovering that she is gone. While the others are going inside to discuss this new and daunting situation, Nathan maneuvers everyone so that Peter and Phoebe are left outside, together... alone... So the couple takes a walk. Inspired by a romantic elderly couple, Phoebe surprises Peter by kissing him. As they embrace in the cool night air, Phoebe realizes that she is hopelessly, ridiculously, and passionately in love with Peter Petrelli...

Today on Heroes: That mysterious seventh sketch is finally revealed! Someone clever manages to get his or her hands on it. It probably won't surprise you who does the cunning deed.

**Chapter Twenty-One (Resolve)**

_She is hopelessly, ridiculously, and passionately in love with my brother, _thought Nathan Petrelli the next morning, watching Phoebe watch Peter sleep. His younger brother was sprawled on the couch in the living room, and Phoebe stood over him with a mug of coffee in her hand, a beatific look on her face as she watched the boy sleep. _Wow. That's… beautiful…_

"I like her."

Nathan turned to see Claire emerge from the kitchen, carrying two mugs of coffee. "Hi, Claire." He took the proffered coffee cup with a sleepy smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Claire joined him quietly in the doorway, fixing her eyes on Phoebe, who was sitting quietly beside the sleeping Peter on the couch. "Wow. She really, _really_ is in love with him."

"Can you tell?" Nathan asked wryly. He took a sip of coffee, then wished he had not. He was sure his tongue would be numb for hours. "I think we should keep her around."

"Most definitely," Claire agreed. She looked up at him suddenly, narrowing her eyes. "Around where?"

"Around… us," Nathan supplied, feeling a bit awkward. "Peter, of course, and all the rest of us as well."

"Do you think we'll all be able to be… together after all of this?" Claire asked quietly. "I mean--_all _of us?"

Nathan was quiet for a moment, staring into his coffee cup and wishing that his power had something to do with ice and freezing things. Or perhaps with answering hard questions. "Is that a trick question, Claire?" he countered softly, meeting her eyes once again.

Claire shook her head, smiling crookedly. "No. I just wish…" Her smile faded, and she sighed, dropping her gaze. "I just wish we could all be together. I like this." She looked up again. "I like watching Phoebe and Peter being romantic. I like listening to Hiro's English. I like how my dad feels alive again doing all this crazy stuff, and I like--I like--" She looked away again, sighing. "I like being around you."

Nathan swallowed hard. "I like being around you, too, Claire," he said, appalled when his voice cracked with emotion.

Claire looked up, peering deeply into his eyes. "Really?"

"I do," said Nathan quietly. "You're my--you're my… daughter."

Claire bit her lip and nodded slowly. Then she smiled abruptly. "I know." And with that, she walked back into the kitchen.

Nathan sighed heavily and turned his gaze back to Phoebe and Peter. Peter was just starting to stir, his face young and vulnerable with sleep, the way it always was when he first woke up. And Phoebe was brushing the hair out of his eyes, making him smile… They looked so at home with each other.

_Home. _

The word came back to Nathan suddenly and sharply, a sweet ache in his soul. He sighed again and took another chance with the coffee.

* * *

Peter sighed at the feeling of someone's fingers stroking his forehead. He stirred slightly, smiling, drifting in that place between dreaming and waking, wishing that there was some way to hold onto both. The dream-Phoebe was holding his hands, smiling at him, clothed in a bright blue dress with an off-the-shoulder collar, her hair swept up in a messy up-do. The dream-Peter reached up to undo the pins in her hair… 

"What are you doing to my hair!?" came a laughing, un-dreamlike exclamation.

Peter slowly opened his eyes, reluctantly shaking off the dream. He grinned crookedly to see that Phoebe was sitting beside him, smiling down at him. And one of his hands was gripping a strand of her hair. "Sorry."

"You don't look it." Her lips quirked in a coy grin.

Peter took a deep breath and stretched, keeping his fingers wrapped around a strand of her hair. "What time is it?"

"It's almost nine thirty," Phoebe said quietly. She took a sip from her coffee mug, then made a face. "This stuff is scorching hot!"

Peter sat up, releasing the golden lock of hair and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Any word on Sasha?"

Phoebe shook her head, green eyes saddening. "Nothing. Hiro thought about trying to teleport to her, but…" She shook her head. "Nathan and I said no to that. We don't know _where_ she is." She raised an eyebrow at him. "And don't even think about doing it yourself, Peter."

"Nathan and you would say no to that, for sure," he remarked darkly, feigning deep hurt.

Phoebe nodded, smiling brightly, and Peter was glad to have made her smile again.

"Everything's gonna be okay, Phoebe," he told her softly, pressing his palm gently against her cheek and looking deeply into her eyes. "Trust me."

She bit her lip and nodded, eyes wide and innocent and so full of trust in him that his breath was taken away. "I do. You know I do. I just wish…" She sighed and reached out, placing a hand over his heart, as if feeling the beat of it would somehow soothe her. He noticed that she did that often. "I just wish you were more concerned for your own safety. I worry about you."

Peter looked away from her then, pressing his lips together and thinking about the sketch that was in-- "My pocket!" he exclaimed suddenly, leaping up from the couch. He glanced down at his sweatpants and white T-shirt, then looked frantically around the room. "Where are my jeans? I laid them on the back of that chair last night."

Phoebe's eyes widened, and she also hopped to her feet, quickly setting down the coffee cup. "The sketch!"

Claire walked into the living room at that moment. "Hi, guys. I thought I'd--" She stopped short when she saw the looks on their faces. "What's the matter?"

"Well, other than the fact that my best friend may very well have been kidnapped, Peter is missing one of his sketches," Phoebe replied with a heavy sigh.

"You don't happen to know what happened to my pants, do you?" Peter asked his niece sheepishly.

"As a matter of fact, I do," said Claire, hands on her hips, raising one eyebrow. "My dad--the one who is also your brother--decided that you needed a little help with the chores around here. So, I volunteered, and… We did your laundry--pants included."

Peter and Phoebe exchanged incredulous glances.

"What!?" exclaimed Peter. "But the sketch!"

Nathan appeared in the doorway then, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes on Peter. "Pete, can I talk with you for a minute?"

"Sure," said Peter, exasperated. "No one's stopping you."

"Alone," Nathan insisted, narrowing his eyes gravely.

Peter sighed. He knew that look. "Alright, Nathan." As he walked toward his brother, he glanced back at Phoebe and Claire. "If you don't mind, I'd like to have my sketch back, no matter how damaged it is. And don't--don't look at it. That goes triple for you, Phoebe."

* * *

When Claire and Phoebe had finished going through the washer and the dryer, they looked up at each other with wide eyes, kneeling on the floor of Peter's tiny laundry room. 

"It's not here!" Claire exclaimed. "This could be bad if that sketch is important."

Phoebe bit her lip and rocked back on her heels. "Peter seems to think it is."

Claire frowned and tapped her chin thoughtfully. "You know, for some reason I get a feeling that the stupid thing wasn't even in the pants when we put them in the dryer… My dad--the Petrelli one--said--" Her eyes widened. "Phoebe! I know where that sketch is!"

"Where is it!?" Phoebe asked quickly.

"Nathan has it!"

* * *

"What is it, Nathan?" Peter asked, joining his brother in the kitchen. 

Nathan ignored his question and moved toward the counter. "Coffee, Pete?"

"No, thanks," said Peter quickly. "What's the _matter_, Nathan?"

Nathan finally met his brother's eyes, a pained look on his face. "Look, Peter, I found the sketch."

Peter sucked in a sharp breath. "You did? Well…" He crossed his arms and looked away from Nathan's piercing, skewering, all-knowing gaze. "What do you think? You think we can save her?"

"Huh." Nathan turned back to the coffee pot and poured himself another mug. "I don't like what happens to you in that picture."

"But it all turns out fine in the end," Peter insisted, leaning back against the refrigerator.

"I don't like what happens to you in that picture, Pete," Nathan repeated. He flashed his brother a glare and reached into the pocket of the white dress shirt he was borrowing from Peter. "Have you looked at it recently? Do you realize what's going to happen to you if this comes true?" He set the folded paper down on the countertop, unfolding it and running the bottom of his coffee mug over it to flatten it. "Take another look, Peter."

"I've seen it, Nathan," said Peter, shaking his head stubbornly. "I _drew_ it."

"_Look_ at it, Peter," Nathan commanded, his voice dangerously rigid.

Sighing in frustration, Peter crossed the kitchen to look down at the picture he had sketched. The rudimentary, yet recognizable drawing was separated into three parts. In the first, Phoebe was tumbling backward. Nathan stood behind her, arms outstretched to catch her. Standing in front of Nathan and Phoebe was Peter--who was being stabbed brutally by a samurai sword, the hilt of which was gripped by the hands of Sylar. "Yeah, I'm not looking forward to that part," Peter muttered, pointing to the ominous first section. In the middle section, Nathan was catching Phoebe. Both of them had horrified looks on their faces. And Peter was jerking the sword out of his own body. "That doesn't look like much fun, either," Peter remarked, tapping the middle section with his finger. In the last part of the sketch, _Peter_ was stabbing _Sylar_ with the sword, blood running down both of their bodies, while Nathan and Phoebe gripped each other's arms and watched with wide, shocked eyes.

"Do you really want to see that look on Phoebe's face? Or on mine?" Nathan asked his brother slowly, studying the younger Petrelli's expressions. "That look of horrified _grief_?"

Peter pressed his lips together and met his brother's eyes, narrowing his own. "I save her, Nathan."

"And get run through--practically _gutted_--by a serial killer with a samurai sword," Nathan added incredulously.

"Well… Yeah." Peter ran a hand through his thick dark hair, shrugging. "I can heal, Nathan."

"That won't matter if these people have the technology to block our powers, Pete," Nathan countered. He set down his coffee mug hard on the counter, wincing when some of the scaldingly hot liquid splashed against his wrist. Sighing, he placed firm hands on his younger brother's shoulders. "Know this--I am going to do whatever I have to do to keep _that_--" He nodded down at the sketch. "--from happening to you."

Peter lifted his chin. "I'll do whatever I have to do to take care of Phoebe." He stared intensely into his brother's eyes. "You know how it feels to love someone so much you would die for them."

Nathan closed his eyes and bowed his head. He was quiet and still for a moment.

"Nathan?" Peter asked tentatively, suddenly regretting his bold words. "Are you alright, man? I'm sorry if I--"

Nathan abruptly hugged his brother, patting his back warmly. Drawing back from Peter, he said, "It looks like, from two of these sketches of yours, that you, me, and Phoebe are going to go through hell together. I'm going to do whatever it takes to look after the two of you." He gave his brother a gentle shake. "You hear me, Pete?"

"I hear you, Nathan." Peter gave him a crooked smile. "We'll look after _each other_. And hey… None of my sketches have even come true yet, except for maybe that one about Sylar painting me." He met his brother's eyes steadily. "The future's not written in stone."

Claire and Phoebe burst into the kitchen at that moment.

"Nathan, where's the sketch!?" Phoebe exclaimed.

The Petrelli brothers turned in unison to face the girls, blocking their view of the countertop and the ominous picture.

"That's all settled now," Nathan told them smoothly. "Peter and I have discussed it."

Phoebe raised a suspicious eyebrow at him, looking unsatisfied with those words. Then she sighed. "Alright then." She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. "How do we find Sasha?"

"I can try sketching again," Peter suggested, inconspicuously reaching to snatch the picture from the counter and shove it in the waistband of his pants.

"Too bad none of us can just… find people!" Claire remarked. "Dad said there was a little girl who could do that. Maybe we could get her to help us."

Peter glanced sharply at her. "A little girl?"

Claire nodded. "Yeah. But he said her guardians wouldn't let us get within a mile of her."

"Nathan, Claire--do you remember that night in Kirby Plaza?" Peter asked excitedly.

"How could I forget?" Nathan replied dryly.

"There was--there was a little girl!" Peter exclaimed. "Nathan!" He grabbed onto his brother's arm. "This can't be a coincidence!"

"Pete… There are lots of little girls out there," Nathan remarked sarcastically.

"But I have to try, Nathan!" Peter protested. "If that was her… I think I can do this!"

Nathan raised his eyebrows. "You think so?"

Peter nodded excitedly. "Just… Let me try." He released his brother and started pacing up and down the kitchen floor. "How does this work? Do I just concentrate?"

"I doubt pacing is part of the routine," said Nathan wryly. He raised his mug to take a sip of coffee, then felt the heat rising from the accursedly hot liquid and thought better of it. "You look like you're doing some sort of rain dance, Pete."

Peter stopped walking and glared at his brother.

Claire hid a giggle behind her hand, and Phoebe snickered.

"I'm _thinking_, Nathan," Peter protested.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry." Nathan cleared his throat and crossed his arms. Phoebe decided he looked about as sorry as Peter had looked (or not looked) earlier when he had played with her hair in his sleep.

Standing in the middle of his kitchen, Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath, shaking out his arms at his sides. He tilted his head back and thought hard about Sasha, the blind girl, Phoebe's friend. An image came to him swiftly and suddenly, making him gasp. He saw a dark place, a small room with a concrete floor. Sasha was curled up in a corner, humming frantically to herself, as if the song she was humming was the only shred of sanity to which she could cling. Peter knew instantly that she was in a basement room--a room in the basement of Anderson Mall. He quickly let go of the thought and opened his eyes. "Anderson Mall!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "She's in the mall!" Head swimming, he grasped for the counter, but missed it and started to pitch forward.

Nathan caught him quickly, supporting him with strong arms. "Good work, Pete," he told his little brother with a proud smile. "You can rain dance all you want if you keep getting results like this."  
Peter grinned at his brother, managing to straighten and stand on his own, but keeping one hand closed around his brother's arm. "Oh, yeah?"

A sudden clap of thunder rattled the windows of Peter's apartment.

With wide eyes and a wide smile, Claire announced, "Peter, I think your rain dance worked!"

"Of course it did," said Phoebe, stepping forward, wrapping her arms around Peter's waist and smiling up at him. "He's Peter Petrelli."

* * *

Angela and Wyatt sat facing each other in the living room, both of them worn and weary from the argument that had kept them up late the night before, both of them doubting that it would be resolved any time soon. 

"You've set your sons up for a fall, Angela," said Wyatt. He had ceased calling her Mrs. Petrelli since last night, certain that his job was lost due to his change of heart, certain that she no longer deserved the respect he had once had for her, the respect he now transferred to her sons and their strange and amazing friends. "Sylar isn't in this for the good of mankind the way you may think _you_ are. He's not in this to further the ambitions of this little offshoot of the Company. He's in this for himself. Don't you know what he's done?"

"I know all about Sylar," Angela replied flatly. She took a sip of wine, not caring that it was still morning. Of course, she would never admit to Wyatt that, until he had informed her, she had owned no clue that Sylar was involved with the same group she had dealings with, no clue that Sylar was somehow pulling their strings. It suddenly scared her, but she managed to keep her hand from shaking as she set the wine glass down on the coffee table. She flashed Wyatt a deceptively confident smile. "He can be handled easily."

"Then you don't know enough about him," Wyatt told her, one eyebrow raised. "He killed Brad Collins, one of Mr. Petrelli's paralegals. I'm sure you know what Mr. Collins could do. He could manipulate the way you feel--heat, cold, pain, pleasure. I'm sure he used his power to try to defend himself from Sylar. And Sylar was strong enough to take him down, Angela." He narrowed his eyes on hers. "I hope to God that madman doesn't discover all that Collins could do."

Angela blinked, her guard slipping. "What do you mean?"

"I mean Brad Collins was not just a simple nerve manipulator. He was a _nervous system _manipulator."

Angela closed her eyes. _What have I done?_

"I doubt the boy even knew it," Wyatt continued. "He was a good kid. And I hope Sylar doesn't know what he didn't." His voice went dangerously low. "And because Sylar was involved with your people, Brad Collins is now dead, and his dangerous power is in Sylar's hands."

"You know so much." Angela stood and turned from him, clinging to a fragile dignity.

Wyatt stood as well. "I've seen the past. I know what goes on in this house--and in other houses. I suggest you come to your senses, woman, before something happens to your family."

"What do you want me to do?" Angela shouted, losing control of her anger. She spun on the old man, eyes narrowed with fury. "Sacrifices must be made, and if the cost of a perfect future is the lives of my family, then _so be it_!" As she said the words, a pang of regret and hurt and self-loathing clenched her heart. More quietly, but with resolve, she repeated, "So be it."


	22. Ridiculous Love

Much Heroes love to all readers and reviewers! I have so enjoyed hearing from those of you who review!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Nathan and Claire observe and discuss the idyllic relationship between Peter and Phoebe. Phoebe is watching Peter sleep. When he wakes up, after flirting with Phoebe, he realizes that he has lost the seventh sketch. Claire and Nathan enter the room. Nathan tells Peter he wants to talk to him in private, while Claire helps Phoebe search Peter's laundry for the sketch. Meanwhile, Nathan reveals to Peter that he took it--and he doesn't like it. The picture reveals Sylar stabbing Peter (who is protecting Phoebe and Nathan) with a samurai sword, then Peter ripping the sword from his own body and stabbing Sylar. The Petrelli brothers have an argument about destiny, then come to the agreement that they are going to look out for each other. Phoebe and Claire join them in the kitchen, and the brothers assure the girls that the matter of the sketch is handled. Then Peter realizes that he may have picked up Molly Walker's power and uses it to locate Sasha. He finds that she is in the basement of Anderson Mall, and the heroes can now plan a rescue attempt. Meanwhile, Wyatt and Angela are continuing their showdown of the previous night. Wyatt reveals to Angela some rather chilling details about Sylar's newly acquired powers. Angela decides to stick to her guns, resolvedly, despite this new information.

**Chapter Twenty-two (Ridiculous Love)**

They were waiting.

Again.

This time, they were waiting for night to fall, for the mall to close, before they made the rescue attempt.

Phoebe sighed and leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window, listening to the rain. Her stomach knotted briefly, sharply, with anxiety--for Sasha, for herself, and especially for Peter. _I _know _he and Nathan were looking at that stupid sketch… Those "innocent" Petrelli faces didn't fool me for one second! That sketch must be of something awful, like all of us getting wiped out. _Her eyes narrowed on a light in the distance. _More than likely, it's of _Peter _getting wiped out…_

"What are you looking at, Phoebe?"

She quickly turned from the window, half smiling at Nathan, who moved to stand beside her, arms crossed. "Just… the city…"

Nathan frowned out the window. "This isn't the best side of it, that's for sure."

"True." Phoebe turned back to the window with a sigh. "That's not all I was looking at," she said quietly, not sure why she suddenly felt like unburdening her heart to Nathan. "I was also looking at the future."

Nathan raised an eyebrow, grinning wryly. "Don't tell me you can see the future now."

"No." She matched his grin with one of her own. "I was just… imagining it." She shuddered, frowning abruptly. "And it wasn't pretty."

Nathan's grin faded. "What did you see?" he asked her quietly.

Phoebe held his gaze, although she was tempted to look away. He had that same intensity about him as his brother, an almost overwhelmingly focused way of looking at her that made her feel as if he was staring into her soul. "Bad things happening to Peter," she whispered. She broke his gaze then, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Peter was not nearby.

"He's in the bedroom with Hiro," Nathan told her quickly. "They're looking at that sword." His lips twitched. "And Peter's video games."

"Ah…" Phoebe smiled. _That's so sweet… _

"Phoebe, have you seen the sketch?" Nathan asked her sharply.

She shook her head, green eyes wide. "No. But I suspect I wouldn't like it."

Nathan turned to watch the storm. Lightning flashed and lit his eyes. "You wouldn't."

Phoebe took a deep breath, lightly placing a hand on Nathan's shoulder. "Nathan… What happens in that sketch?"

Nathan met her eyes. "Bad things happen to Peter," he told her softly. A deep rumble of thunder echoed his ominous words.

Phoebe nodded, biting her lip. "I figured."

Nathan patted her hand. "Don't worry, Phoebe. We're going to make sure they don't happen."

"What are we going to do?" Phoebe asked wryly. "Tie Peter up and lock him in his closet while the two of us go fight Sylar?"

Nathan grinned. "If it comes down to that." His eyes twinkled mischievously. "If you'd like me to lock you in with him…"

"Nathan!" Phoebe shoved him in mock consternation.

"Seriously!" He held up his hands defensively. "It's more than obvious how the two of you feel about each other. I thought maybe I could help move things along, give you a shove..."

Phoebe blushed lightly and dropped her hand from his shoulder. "Thanks, but no thanks. I mean, I _want _things to move along, but not like _that. _I mean… _sort _of like that, but no. Uhm…" She laughed sheepishly at herself, biting her lip and meeting Nathan's quizzical, amused eyes. "Am I making any sense? At all?"

"I know _exactly_ what you mean," said Nathan with a bright smile, managing not to laugh. "Well… Close enough." He raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure Peter would be able to translate for you."

They both laughed at that.

"Well, for the older brother of the guy who I'm pretty sure is my boyfriend… You understand me very well," Phoebe told the Flying Man with a warm smile. "I appreciate that."

"No problem," said Nathan. He grinned, displaying a very perfect set of teeth that made Phoebe very nearly jealous. "I like you, Phoebe."

"Thanks," said Phoebe, grinning back, the almost-jealousy completely erased by camaraderie. She had a sudden feeling that Nathan Petrelli had gotten himself (and probably Peter as well) out of all kinds of trouble with that insanely appealing smile. "I like you, too."

"Good," said Nathan. He turned his eyes back to the storm. "And I think my brother really, _really _likes you."

"I hope so," Phoebe said softly. She followed his lead and looked back out at the rain and lightning, thinking of Peter, of his kisses, of his touch, the feel of his heartbeat under her hand... "I hope so," she repeated in an intense whisper, daring to wish, daring to believe.

They were both quiet for a moment, listening to the rain and thunder.

"He'd die for you, Phoebe," Nathan spoke up abruptly, his voice low and serious.

Phoebe met his eyes steadily. "I know," she said quietly. Then suddenly, she felt shy, self-conscious. "It's… it's ridiculous," she added half-heartedly, lowering her eyes.

"Is it?" Nathan raised an eyebrow. He smiled suddenly. "I suppose you could call love a ridiculous thing…"

Phoebe's eyes widened as she looked back at Nathan. "You think he… loves me?"

Nathan nodded. "I more than think it. I know it."

"Hmm." Phoebe hugged herself then, feeling as if fireworks were exploding inside her--nice, big fireworks. She looked out at the rain, feeling an odd urge to laugh. Or scream. Or dance. Or something. _Peter loves me! Nathan is sure of it. And Nathan would know. Nathan knows _everything

"And you love him, too," Nathan added quietly.

Phoebe glanced sharply at him. "Yes," she whispered.

Nathan reached abruptly to tilt her chin upward with his fingers. "Good," he told her, looking intently into her eyes. He studied her face for a few intense seconds, then smiled slowly, dropped his hand, and turned, walking away from her, his footsteps retreating toward the kitchen.

Stunned breathless and a bit confused, Phoebe turned back to the storm, wondering at Nathan's motivation for trying to X-ray into her soul…

"Phoebe?"

She turned to see Peter walking up to her, and she smiled. "Hi, Peter."

Peter was frowning in confusion. "What was all that about?" he asked.

"All what?" Phoebe asked, raising an eyebrow.

"With you and Nathan," Peter supplied.

"Oh. That." _I think maybe your brother was trying to read my mind. Or tell me something without saying anything. More than likely, he was testing me somehow. I think I passed with flying colors. At least, I hope I did… _"We were just talking."

"What were you talking about?" Peter asked, looking uncomfortable and strangely unsure.

"The future," Phoebe replied, not sure how much to tell him.

"What about it?" Peter inquired, his eyes intense.

The eyes were too much for Phoebe. "We talked a little bit about the sketch," she admitted, deciding _not _to say, "We talked about how you and I are in love."

"The sketch." Peter sighed and turned to the rain, lifting his chin stubbornly. "It's always 'the sketch' with you and Nathan." He sighed again, as if profoundly disturbed.

Phoebe raised an eyebrow, wondering what had gotten into him. "What's the matter, Peter?"

"Nothing. It's just… It's nothing." He crossed his arms and shook his head.

Phoebe narrowed her eyes on him. Something was definitely bothering him. Softly, she wrapped her arms around him from behind, leaning her head against his back and listening to the beat of his heart, as she was wont to do. "What is it, Peter?" she whispered.

He leaned his head back so that they were standing cheek to cheek. "We've only known each other for a few days. But… I feel like I've known you forever, like you're a part of me." He turned to face her, grasping her upper arms tightly but gently. He studied her eyes closely, intensely, in a manner very similar to the way Nathan had studied her only minutes earlier.

_But this is different, _Phoebe thought, staring unblinkingly back at Peter. _This is the Petrelli I'm in love with. The one who, according to the other one, is in love with me…_

When Peter continued staring silently into her eyes, Phoebe cleared her throat and said, "Uhm, you can just read my mind if you want to. I promise I won't think of anything stupid while you do."

"I don't want to read your mind, Phoebe." Peter sighed and broke his gaze from hers.

Phoebe wanted to shake him and scream at him to tell her what was bothering him. Instead, she just bit her lip and moved into the circle of his arms, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes.

Peter sighed heavily and pressed a kiss in her hair. "I'm sorry, Phoebe," he said quietly, his voice vibrating pleasantly, deep and warm, against her ear.

"For what?" she asked softly, placing a daring kiss on the side of his neck.

"Hmm."

She could feel him smile against her hair, could feel his breath warm on the back of her neck when he sighed as she slid a hand to his chest so that she could feel his heartbeat.

"For what?" she repeated more softly.

"Your eyelashes are tickling me," he told her softly, a grin in his voice.

"Peter! Are you avoiding my--" Laughing, she turned her head, only to have her lips captured by his. It was a rather pleasant captivity, so she made no attempt to break free as his arms tightened convulsively around her.

_Now I'll never know what was bothering him. Oh well… _She smiled as they drew back from each other to take breaths, then started kissing again. _I have a feeling he's forgotten whatever it was. _Her own words turned on her as Peter's kisses stole away not only her breath, but her worries as well.

* * *

_Everyone I love is put in danger, _thought Hiro Nakamura as he quickly retreated from the living room. He had walked in seconds earlier, only to turn quickly around at the sight of the passionately embracing couple by the window. For a moment, he stood in the doorway to Peter's bedroom, feeling a bit lost. Phoebe and Peter were busy with each other. Claire and Noah were down the street picking up supper. And Nathan was in a moody mood, sipping coffee in the kitchen with a strange, thoughtful look on his face.

Hiro did not know where to go.

If Sasha had been there, she would have understood. And Sasha was in danger. Maybe it was because she was Hiro's friend. Hiro's friends were always in danger.

As he entered the bedroom and plopped down on the bed, Hiro was tempted to teleport himself to Japan to hang out with Ando. But… "You must stay here," he told himself aloud. "Your friends… They need you, Hiro Nakamura." He glanced down at the sword lying in the bed, and his heart took courage. Never again would he let a friend die.

Hiro picked up the sword and stood, striking a stance his father had taught him.

"I am Hiro Nakamura. I am a hero. With my friends, I will save the world."

"Hiro?"

Hiro looked to see Nathan standing in the doorway. He quickly lowered his sword. "Yes, Flying Man?"

"Dinner's here," said Nathan, with a bemused smile.

"Okay. I am ready." Hiro set the sword back down, feeling infinitely better.

"For everything?" Nathan asked, narrowing his eyes on the shorter man.

Hiro thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, Nathan Petrelli. For everything."

Nathan smiled suddenly. "Good," he said. "I think we all are, actually. Even Phoebe, who is less 'combat experienced' than the rest of us."

"Phoebe is very brave person," Hiro said with a smile.

Nathan nodded, looking down at his impeccable shoes, suddenly solemn. "Yes. She is." He looked up again, meeting Hiro's curious gaze. "You told me I was a villain once… A 'very bad person.'"

"That was long time ago," said Hiro quietly. "You are not bad person, Flying Man. You are a hero."

Nathan raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching with the hint of a smile. "Maybe I am now. But… I wasn't then. I owe you an apology."

"All is forgiven, Flying Man!" Hiro declared, reaching to pat his friend's arm. He grinned broadly. "You are true hero, but more importantly, you are my friend."

Nathan's smile finally returned. "You're mine, too, buddy. Thanks." He swallowed, apparently working hard at controlling his emotions. "You're… a very good person, Hiro."

"I am very hungry person, too!" Hiro exclaimed, rubbing his stomach.

Nathan laughed. "Come on, Hiro." He turned and walked through the door. "Dinner is waiting."

Hiro followed Nathan to the kitchen, where the others were all waiting.

"Honey barbecue boneless chicken wings, Hiro?" Claire called to the little Japanese man as soon as she caught sight of him, holding up a cardboard box with chickens printed on it.

Hiro blinked. "Okay," he replied.

"We've got some Caesar salad over here, too," Phoebe spoke up from beside the counter. Her eyes and cheeks were glowing with a strange light. Hiro smiled as he watched her open up the massive salad. Kissing Peter was good for her. She was a pretty girl, he supposed, but kissing Peter made her beautiful. A wrench of pain clenched Hiro's heart for a few brief seconds. What would Charlie have looked like after he kissed her…?

"You alright, Hiro?" Peter asked, moving to his friend's side, bright brown eyes narrowed in concern.

"I am okay," said Hiro, managing a smile. "I am very hungry, too!"

* * *

The sun had just set over Manhattan, tinting the rainy, cloud-darkened sky with slashes of red. Like blood.

Phoebe shivered, hugging herself.

"The mall closes in two hours," Nathan was saying from where he stood in the living room doorway. He flicked his wrist downward to look at his watch. "In exactly two hours, we make our move."

They were all gathered in the living room, anxious and restless. Claire sat watching Nathan, while Noah watched Claire. Hiro sat with his eyes closed, in deep concentration. Nathan kept his eyes on Peter and Phoebe (which made Phoebe think of him as a sort of guardian angel, which made her smile, because he could actually fly). Sometimes Peter was sitting by Phoebe, other times he was pacing. Phoebe mostly watched Peter, occasionally glancing at the others to see who _they_ were watching. _Watching the six of us would be a psychologist's field day…_

"I would teleport us two hours in future, but I think we need time to… get ready," Hiro spoke up, opening his eyes. "We have hard battle ahead."

Phoebe noticed that Peter and Nathan met each other's eyes then. _That darned sketch, _she thought. _They're thinking about what's in it. _Her heartbeat skipped when both Petrelli brothers looked at her. _Obviously and unfortunately, it has something to do with me. _She hoped suddenly that Peter's fervent love for her and Nathan's brotherly attachment to her would not cause either of them to do anything reckless for her sake. Then she saw the way Nathan looked at Peter, and she knew. Nathan's words came back to her: "He'd die for you, Phoebe." _Oh. So that's it. He's planning on dying for me. Great. Just great. _Phoebe narrowed her eyes on Peter, crossing her arms over her chest. _Not if _I _have anything to say about it, my love._


	23. Of Angels and Demons

Thank you to my ever-patient, ever-encouraging readers/reviewers! Sorry it took me so long to update!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _The brother/sister bond between Nathan and Phoebe deepens when they discuss the seventh sketch, the future, and Peter as they watch the storm through Peter's window. Nathan asserts that Peter loves Phoebe, and she assures him that she loves Peter in return. When he leaves Phoebe at the window with these things to consider, Peter approaches, seeming disturbed about something. But Phoebe's kiss seems to drive his worries away. Meanwhile, Hiro worries about his friends and wonders how he can keep them safe. As he is pondering, Nathan (who seems to have taken on the role of Heroes' counselor here lately) enters the room and apologizes for previous meanness. Hiro forgives him, naturally, and the heroes eat supper while they wait to make their move. They gather in the living room to wait, with two hours until the mall closes. Phoebe contemplates her companions, realizing that Peter may in fact be planning on sacrificing himself (that's the way Peter rolls). She makes up her mind to try and stop him from doing anything reckless... But he's Peter Petrelli. She's goint to have a hard time keeping that resolution...

**Chapter Twenty-three (Of Angels and Demons)**

Peter Petrelli stood in front of his mirror, dressed in a long, black coat, frowning at his own reflection.

"Peter."

He turned slightly to see Phoebe enter his bedroom, wearing a long, green shirt and dark jeans. Her reddish blond hair was brushed to perfection, hanging straight and shiny around her oval face and down past her shoulders. "You look beautiful," Peter told her quietly. Then he turned back to the mirror.

"So do you," Phoebe replied, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist. She leaned her chin on his shoulder, her breath warm against his cheek and neck. "I'll be glad when this is all over," she said quietly.

"Me, too," said Peter. He swallowed, managing a slight, crooked grin.

"I feel so… responsible for all this," Phoebe said softly, her green eyes shadowed. "Sasha is my friend. If I had stayed with her, kept a closer watch over her…" She sighed. "I'm the one who dragged you into all this mess. I'm the one who--"

"Stop it," Peter told her firmly, spinning to face her and gripping her shoulders. "This _had_ to happen, Phoebe. We were _meant _to face Sylar. And none of this is your fault. Do you hear me?"

She nodded and looked down, suddenly very quiet.

"Phoebe…" Peter sighed and softened his voice. "You sound too much like me."

She looked back up at him, smiling faintly. "That's what Nathan says. And Claire. And Heidi. I guess we're two of a kind."

Peter grinned. "I guess so." He planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "Don't be upset, Phoebe. Don't feel guilty. We're going to stop Sylar. We're going to save Sasha. Everything's going to work out, just like last time."

"And what's going to happen to you, Peter?" Phoebe asked in a desperate whisper, her arms once again sliding around his slender waist.

Peter smirked. "You're going to kiss me."

"Dang it, Peter! You know what I mean!" Phoebe exclaimed in frustration.

"You're still going to kiss me," Peter protested smugly.

Phoebe pressed her lips together, trying to glare at him. She failed miserably. "Must you Petrelli men always be right?"

Peter nodded, smiling. "Of course."

"Oh well." Phoebe sighed and kissed him.

When he kissed her back, it was with a strange, urgent passion. He clung to her in a desperate manner, as if she were all that anchored him to sanity.

"Peter," she murmured against his lips, touched deeply inside, trembling without.

He did not reply. Softly, he kissed her throat, framing her face with his fingers, then he moved his lips back to hers and kissed her mouth with abandon.

Phoebe lost all sense of everything but Peter then, moving ever so close to him, moving her lips with his in a sensuous, thrilling dance. She shivered as his hands ran up and down her back, smiled against his mouth as she ran her hands through his thick, silky dark hair. She had never felt this overwhelming sense of passion before, never felt so rapturous. She could feel her heart beating wild and hard, as if it were trying to jump out of her chest. Curiously, she moved a hand to the side of Peter's throat as she kissed his lips. She laughed softly when she felt his pulse.

Their hearts were beating in time, to the same rapid, tempestuous rhythm.

Peter pressed his lips to the pulse beat of her throat and felt it, too. "Wow," he murmured, drawing back slightly from her and looking into her eyes, breathless and smiling. "That's… wild."

"Yeah." Phoebe nodded, also breathless, unable to stop grinning. She could feel a blush burning in her cheeks. "We're--we're on the same beat…"

A softness came over Peter then, and he drew her to him, brushing her forehead with a soft kiss, then placing his cheek against hers as a loud crash of thunder rattled the windows of his apartment.

Phoebe closed her eyes and relaxed her body against his, relishing in the feel of her arms around him, his arms around her… Then, a cool wetness against her cheek startled her. She frowned. "Peter?" Was he crying? Troubled, she drew back slightly from him, just enough so that she could see his face. "Are you okay?"

Peter met her eyes, and his were indeed shiny with tears. "I'm fine," he said huskily, a tough expression on his face. The sniff that followed ruined it.

"What is it, baby?" Phoebe asked softly, reaching to gently brush away a tear that was sliding down his cheek.

He shook his head and pulled her abruptly back into his arms, resting his face in the curve of her neck.

"Peter?" She rubbed his back gently, leaning her head against his. His body shuddered suddenly, and she was sure then that he was crying. Phoebe said nothing. She just held him and let him cry silently on her shoulder, his tears tickling her skin as she wondered desperately what was making him cry.

"I wish I could read your mind," she whispered finally, fiercely.

He lifted his head and looked at her, swiping at the tears on his face as if he were angry at himself. "I'm fine," he insisted, his voice gruff and hoarse. He put on a manly frown that made him look like Nathan. "I'm okay."

Phoebe nodded slowly, reaching to brush a wayward bang out of his eyes. "I'm glad," she said softly.

He caught her hand and held it to his face, leaning into her palm and closing his eyes, lightning casting their shadows on the walls of his room. Then he took a shaky breath and turned to kiss her wrist lightly. Sighing, he lowered their hands, linking his fingers through hers. "Come on," he said, squeezing her hand. "It's time for us to be heroes."

"You're a hero already, Peter," Phoebe told him softly, sincerely, moving close to him so that their arms touched. She gently nudged his side with her elbow. "You already saved the world."

He met her eyes steadily, intensely, and said in a low voice, "And you already saved me."

Phoebe's green eyes widened. But before she could question him, he was leading her out the door.

* * *

Claire raised an eyebrow at Peter and Phoebe as they emerged from Peter's bedroom. She could tell that Peter had been crying. His eyes were red-rimmed and overly bright. And he and Phoebe had been kissing, too, she was sure. Phoebe had that glow about her, shining through her skin, gleaming in her eyes.

Phoebe caught Claire's gaze and blushed lightly, grinning and biting her lip.

Claire smiled and gave the older girl a thumbs up, but behind her smile, she worried. If Peter and Phoebe had been having such a good time making out, what cause was there for him to cry? The thought of Peter being upset enough to cry frightened Claire.

Nathan brushed past Claire then, lightly patting her shoulder and moving to stand at Peter's side. "You okay, Pete?" he asked his brother, narrowing his eyes on the younger man.

Peter nodded. "I'm fine, Nathan," he insisted, lifting his chin and straightening his shoulders. Claire noticed the way his hand tightened around Phoebe's. "I'm ready now."

From behind Claire, Noah spoke. "I certainly hope so, because we're leaving in five minutes."

Claire shivered at those words, and she hugged herself. _I'm not ready! Just a few more minutes! I don't _want _to go rushing into danger! I don't _want _to see you guys risking your lives, getting hurt… _The memory of Nathan going into shock in the healer's front yard sent a pulse of terror through her body.

"Do not be afraid, cheerleader," said Hiro quietly, moving to her side, his samurai sword strapped to his back. He placed a firm hand on Claire's shoulder, gazing steadily at her. "Everything will be okay. We are heroes."

Claire smiled at the little Asian man. "Thanks, Hiro. I needed to remember that," she said softly. Over his shoulder, she met Nathan's eyes, and hers widened. _I'm scared for you. For me. For all of us. What do I do, Nathan? …Dad?_

He gave her a slow nod of acknowledgement, his eyes intense on hers, as if he understood her.

And the fear faded.

"I won't be scared, Hiro," she told her friend. Her smile turned into a bright grin. "You're right. I'm in the company of heroes!"

Hiro brandished a fist in the air, smiling brightly. "And we are going to save the world!" he proclaimed excitedly.

"I wish I had your enthusiasm, Hiro," Phoebe told the little man, smiling at him.

Hiro frowned at her. "What is this enthu…siasm?"

"Enthusiasm is… passion," Phoebe explained in her best English teacher voice. "It is a strong burst of emotion, generally positive emotion."

Nathan and Peter exchanged amused glances behind Phoebe's back, making Claire smile.

Hiro nodded sagely to Phoebe. "I get it. You are right, Phoebe Agnew. I have much enthusiasm. Being a hero can be hard, but… It is also very… rewarding."

Claire raised an eyebrow. If only they could skip the hard part…

* * *

_I can't believe he actually prepared _backpacks _for us. _Phoebe spared a glanced at Noah Bennet as he parked the heroes-packed car a few blocks down from Anderson Mall. The man had actually packed emergency kits for each of them, stuffed with First Aid supplies and other such needful things. _We'll probably need them, _Phoebe thought. She caught Noah's eye and motioned to her backpack, giving him a thumbs up.

Noah shrugged. "It doesn't hurt to be prepared," he said quietly.

"If we're so prepared, then where are the umbrellas?" Nathan spoke up sardonically from the front passenger seat.

They all looked at each other with wide eyes, except for Nathan, who was staring out at the rain with a smug look on his face.

"Flying Man is right!" Hiro exclaimed, frowning. "We are going to be very wet superheroes!"

A clap of thunder seemed to confirm his words.

"I think I can handle this," said Phoebe quickly.

"How?" Nathan asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I had this dream… Or Peter had this dream, and I was in it. Or something like that. Anyway, I was in the mall," Phoebe explained, "Anderson Mall, and sprinklers were going off everywhere, but the water wasn't touching me. I think I was holding it back with my talent." She shrugged. "Maybe I can keep us dry."

"It's worth a shot," said Nathan. "Let's try it."

* * *

"They've gone to find her. We're too late." Wyatt turned on Angela Petrelli with an accusatory glare. "I hope they know what they're getting into."

Angela turned away from her reluctant ally and walked out of Peter's apartment, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm sure they do," she said slowly. "Peter has a number of powers. I believe pre-cognition is among his repertoire." She closed her eyes, fighting desperately to maintain control of her own emotions. _You've made your choice, Angela. Live with it! _"They'll be just fine."

"So now you _want _them to be fine," Wyatt replied, his voice low like a growl, low like the thunder that rumbled outside. "I thought you wanted them to be experimented on. Or killed if they got in the way." When she did not reply, he moved closer to her, narrowing his eyes on her. "You win either way, don't you? Either your sons and their friends make it out okay or they don't. And even if they don't, your little Company offshoot comes out on top. So either way, the great Angela Petrelli wins."

Angela faced him with a cool stare. "You're right. Whatever happens, I will be fine. And so will you. I don't know why you're taking this so personally."

"Why are _you_?" Wyatt shot back.

Angela lifted her chin, deciding to go with honesty. "I don't have an answer for that." She jerked her head toward the stairwell. "I suggest we get moving. If we want to follow the events of this night, we need to hurry. I fear they are unfolding all too quickly."

* * *

Rain ran down the buildings, slipped between the cracks in th sidewalk, spilled down the streets into the gutters… and did not touch the six people walking down the sidewalk.

Phoebe glanced over her shoulder at the others. She could not help but smile at the expression of wonder on Claire's face. The younger girl kept looking up to watch the rain slide over the invisible barrier created by Phoebe's power, her eyes glowing with amazement.

"How are you doing it?" Claire asked, meeting Phoebe's eyes.

Phoebe adjusted her pace so that she was walking beside the cheerleader. "I just gathered the power I use to move things and sort of… layered it over us, pushing back the rain." She shrugged, smiling and proud of herself. "Or something like that." She met Peter's eyes, then, her smile softening as her cheeks flushed lightly. Walking under the canopy of her talent, with these people she was coming to consider her dearest friends, she held her breath, as if by doing so, she could hold back the trouble she knew would come. This delightful moment would soon end in a spiral of violence and danger, she was certain.

Peter stopped walking and waited for her to catch up, placing his hand against the small of her back. "Don't worry, Phoebe," he whispered in her ear.

A bitter-sweetness touched her heart as she moved closer to him. "You read my mind, didn't you?"

He nodded slowly. "By accident. Sorry. That happens sometimes."

"It's okay," said Phoebe, her throat tightening ridiculously. She turned her gaze to the road ahead. The parking lot lights of the mall glowed through the rain. And for once, light was ominous and terrifying. _If only we could stay in the dark…_

"We are almost there!" Hiro exclaimed cheerily, breaking through Phoebe's bleak thoughts.

Everyone slowed their paces until they had all stopped walking on the sidewalk.

"I think it's time for us to be inconspicuous," Noah remarked dryly.

Nathan glanced at him, then turned to Peter. "Do you think you can use your invisibility on all of us?"

Peter shrugged. "I don't know. I've never tried making more than one other person invisible."

"Well now's the time to try," Nathan said, stepping forward and placing his hands on Peter's shoulders.

Peter nodded. "Okay. Let's do it." He looked at the others. "I think you all have to be touching me for this to work. So… Here." He held out his arms.

Claire took one of Peter's hands, and Hiro took the other. Phoebe stood close to the younger Petrelli, wrapping her arms around him from behind.

"I'll stand back and make sure it works," said Noah, stepping back slightly from the others and crossing his arms. "Go ahead."

Peter nodded, then closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Phoebe rested her chin on his shoulder, watching Noah's face for reaction. The man with horn rimmed glasses raised one eyebrow. "Impressive," he said. "It seems to be working."

Peter let out his breath in a sigh, relaxing his powers and turning everyone visible once again. He lowered his arms and slipped his hands from Claire's and Hiro's.

"Do you think you can handle it?" Nathan asked his brother, narrowing his eyes and keeping his hands protectively on Peter's shoulders.

Peter nodded, eyes wide. "Yeah," he said breathlessly. "It takes a lot of concentration, but… I think I can do it."

"You _think_?" Nathan met Phoebe's eyes over Peter's shoulder.

Phoebe raised her eyebrows, reading Nathan's expression correctly and remembering Peter's nosebleed and dizziness in the mall when he had overtaxed his powers. And of course, there was the time when he passed out in the Potter's house… "Peter, are you sure about this? I'm sure we can find another way," she told him softly.

"I'm sure," Peter firmly replied. He held out his arms again. "It's time."

* * *

"They'll be here anytime now. Trying to save you." Sylar snickered, and Sasha could feel him turn from her. "I'm afraid their plans won't work. There will be no stopping me this time. I will ascend."

"To where?" asked Sasha bitingly. "To new heights of insanity?"

He laughed admiringly. "You know, Sasha, I'm going to hate killing you. You've been… fun. But I'm afraid our relationship is a bit different from the one you had with Mr. Collins. You see, I only want you for…" He laughed. "Your brains."

Sasha nearly gagged, but managed to keep the reaction in check. "You're sick."

"You're wrong," said Sylar. He moved to stand over her. "I'm the _cure_ for the sickness. I'm the next evolutionary phase. It's survival of the fittest, and I'm the fittest." He sighed melodramatically. "Too bad you're not." With a chuckle, he left her alone.

As soon as his footsteps were hidden from her ears, Sasha began working at the weak spot in the duct tape holding her hands together behind her back…


	24. Time to Be Heroes

Well, guys, we're almost to the end! It's the second to last chapter! I'm so glad you've stayed with me on this one. The journey has been beyond awesome. Thanks for all the great reviews!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Peter and Phoebe have a sweet interlude, comforting each other with kisses. Phoebe gets worried when Peter starts to have an emotional breakdown, but her loyalty and concern for him make him feel better. Claire sees Peter afterward and worries about him as well, but is reassured by Hiro and Nathan. The heroes finally make their way toward the mall, and Phoebe uses her telekinesis to push the rain away from them, keeping them dry. Meanwhile, Wyatt and Angela, reluctant allies, decide to tail the other heroes, who are finally closing in on the mall, thanks to Peter's invisibility. In the basement of the mall, Sasha is getting sick of Sylar's insults and indulgent rhetoric. Thus she decides to make an escape attempt...

**Chapter Twenty-four (Time to Be Heroes)**

Six people stood on the steps of Anderson Mall, invisible. Except for to each other.

"Pete, do you think you can keep us invisible any longer?" Nathan asked his brother quickly, assessing the younger man's paleness and strained features.

Peter nodded, jaw set. "I can do this, Nathan."

"Alright. Good." Nathan swallowed down his fear for his little brother and turned to face Noah. Each movement was awkward, since they all had to keep contact with Peter to remain invisible. "Bennet, I think it would be best if you remained here. We need someone to stay outside the mall just in case… Just in case something happens."

Noah raised an eyebrow. "I was planning on accompanying my daughter, Senator Petrelli."

_Come on, man. Listen to reason. _"Bennet, you're the only one without a… talent. You'd put us all at risk by coming with us."

Noah narrowed his eyes on Nathan. "I have a gun in my jacket. You might need that."

"If we do, we'll let you know," said Nathan quickly. He cast a nervous glance at the darkened entrance of the mall. There was one security guard, pacing just in front of the glass doors. "Look… We need someone to remain free, just in case the rest of us get captured or… incapacitated."

"He's right, Noah," Peter put in, nodding. He tossed his head to clear his eyes of the wayward dark bangs, a trickle of sweat running down his forehead. "If things go wrong, we need you free so you can bust us out. You can also keep watch on that security guard and call us if anything suspicious happens out here."

Noah was quiet for a moment, meeting Peter's gaze steadily. Then he nodded. "You're right. It makes perfect sense." He craned his head to look around the others at the entrance. "Let's find a place where that guard won't see us so we can split up."

Peter nodded. "Let's go."

The six heroes made their way to the patio of one of the mall's restaurants. Once they were certain that the guard could not see them, Peter let go of his power, and they were all made visible.

While the others released their hold on Peter, Phoebe did not. She kept her arms around him, steadying him as he swayed slightly. "Are you alright, baby?" she whispered softly in his ear.

"Just a bit worn out," he replied breathlessly.

"Good work, Peter," said Nathan proudly, patting his brother firmly on the shoulder.

"Thanks, man," said Peter. He smiled crookedly at his older brother, obviously pleased to make him proud. He turned quickly to Noah. "You stay here and keep a look out. We'll call you if we need anything."

"Sure thing. I'll be here." Noah nodded to the younger man, and it was clear that he respected him. "Take care of Claire."

"We will," said Nathan meeting the eyes behind the horn rimmed glasses.

"Be careful, Dad," said Claire quietly, moving to hug Noah.

Noah softly kissed the top of her head. "I will. And you'd better be, as well."

"I will." She nodded against his chest, then stepped back beside Nathan, who put an arm around her.

"We cannot wait any longer!" Hiro spoke up. "Our friend Sasha… She is in very bad danger!"

"You're right, Hiro," said Peter. "It's time. Do you think you can teleport us all inside the mall?"

Hiro nodded quickly. "I can try, Peter Petrelli."

"Good," said Peter. "I'll try to keep us invisible so the guard won't see us. If something goes wrong, and he _does _happen to see us--"

"Then I'll handle him with telekinesis," Phoebe volunteered.

"Or I can fly us out of there," Nathan suggested.

"And if any bullets get fired, I'll jump in front of them," said Claire with a wry smile.

"Unless they're using those power-blocking bracelets," Nathan cautioned.

"Exactly," Noah agreed. "Then you run. Get out of there. And let me know you're coming so I can help you."

"Well… There's the plan," said Peter. He took a deep breath and lifted his chin. "Let's do this." He turned to Hiro. "Hiro, take us inside."

Hiro nodded, a serious look on his round face. "It is time."

* * *

Noah Bennet watched as the others disappeared. Then he resolved to wait… keeping in mind the fact that he had brought his shotgun in the trunk of the car…

* * *

Peter, Phoebe, Nathan, Hiro, and Claire were suddenly inside the mall--and invisible.

Phoebe glanced nervously at the security guard, wondering if he had heard anything, but he appeared to be occupied by checking a lock on one of the gates. She quickly turned her gaze to Peter, who still looked pale, but determined. "Peter… Which way do we go?"

He met her eyes, his lips twitching slightly with a smile. "That way," he whispered, nodding toward the center of the mall. "There's a door near the fountain. It leads to the basement. Sasha's down there." He closed his eyes frowning, then quickly drew a breath, brown eyes snapping opened. "And so is Sylar."

"Let's just teleport in, get the girl, and teleport out," said Nathan quietly and quickly as they began moving at Peter's lead.

"It's not that simple," Peter replied. The brothers' eyes met intensely. "Nathan. You know it's not. You saw the picture I drew."

"The future's not written in stone," Nathan told him through his teeth.

"I know that, Nathan," Peter replied, sounding exasperated.

"Do you guys mind telling the rest of us what was in that picture?" Claire spoke up anxiously.

The Petrelli brothers looked at each other, then at Claire.

"Nothing good, Claire," Nathan told her quietly.

"There's the door," Peter spoke up, motioning toward a gray metal door on the other side of the fountain, which was, oddly, still running. He glanced over his shoulder. "We're out of sight of the guard. I think you can all let go of me now."

"Okay, Peter Petrelli," said Hiro.

They all released their holds on Peter, becoming instantly visible. Then Peter himself slowly faded back into visibility.

"I can hear the guard's thoughts," he said quietly. "I'll know if he's coming this way." He looked around the semi-circle at his friends, his family. "So… How are we going to do this?"

"Well somehow, we've got to get through that door," said Nathan.

Hiro stepped forward and grasped the doorknob. It twisted easily in his hand. He turned back to the others with a bright smile. "The door is unlocked!"

"Good work, Hiro," said Nathan with a grin.

"What's on the other side?" Claire asked, her voice a bit shaky with nervousness.

"It is a hallway," said Hiro, opening the door wide and stepping back. "Very dark hallway."

Peter moved past the others to stand in the doorway, narrowing his eyes as if he was concentrating. "It's all clear," he said finally. "There's no one down there for a long time." He turned to the others and met Phoebe's eyes first, then Nathan's. "I guess we'd better get moving, then."

* * *

_Bad things always happen in places that look like this in the movies, _Phoebe thought as she stood with the others in a darkened hallway. There was a dead end ahead, and two closed doors on each side of the hall. It made Phoebe's stomach twist to see that the doors looked just like the one in Peter's sketch of himself and her and Nathan. _Oh, God… Please… Don't let those things come true…_

"Is splitting up an option here?" Nathan wondered aloud.

"In the movies--" Phoebe started nervously.

Hiro interrupted her. "I am sorry, Phoebe Agnew, but we are not in movie. We are in real life. If it is our destiny to split up, we split up." He patted her arm comfortingly. "Do not be afraid. It is our destiny to be heroes."

Phoebe smiled wryly at him.

"Peter, which way is Sasha?" Nathan asked suddenly.

Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then his brown eyes opened. "She's that way," he said quickly, pointing toward the second door on the right "But she's not alone. I sensed someone there when I looked for her… someone else…" His eyes widened suddenly, and his hand closed convulsively around Phoebe's upper arm. "Someone's coming! From that room right there!" He pointed frantically toward the first door on the right. "They know we're here!"

"We have to hide--and I'm not letting you waste more energy on making us invisible, Pete," Nathan said quickly. He nodded toward the first door on the left. "Is that one clear?"

Peter nodded. "It's clear."

Nathan slipped an arm around Claire's shoulders and stepped toward the door. "Then in we go."

* * *

"Who's there?" Noah Bennet called from his post on the patio. Two shapes were silhouetted against the beams of a parking lot light--and they were moving closer. The man with horn rimmed glasses reached toward the shotgun lying on the patio table…

"Easy there, Noah," came a deep, rumbling voice.

Noah blinked. "Wyatt?"

"Old friends, I see," remarked Angela as she and Wyatt stepped onto the patio.

"We go back a long way," Wyatt told her with a wry grin.

"What are you doing here?" Noah asked them sharply, keeping his eyes on Angela.

"We're only here to observe," she said with a sigh. There was a pang of sadness in her voice. "I'm afraid I'm here to see what damage I've done."

* * *

Phoebe found herself crouching behind a large metal desk, flanked by Peter and Nathan Petrelli. Peter had a protective arm around her shoulder. On her other side, Nathan peered anxiously around the desk to where Hiro and Claire had taken refuge behind another desk. All were waiting silently, holding their breaths as the sound of footsteps came near.

Peter's arm suddenly tensed around Phoebe's shoulders.

"What is it?" she whispered, turning in his grasp so that their eyes met.

"Nothing good," said Peter quietly. "They know we're here." His eyes defocused suddenly as he concentrated on the thoughts of the people from whom they were hiding. Suddenly, he gasped and called out, "Hiro! They're turning on their bracelets! If you're going to do anything--"

"I will teleport to Sasha, Peter Petrelli!" Hiro called back across the room.

"Okay! Be careful!" Peter called back.

"I'll look out for him," Claire spoke up.

"Claire!" Nathan called out suddenly, convulsively.

"Yes?" she replied.

"I love you," said Nathan.

There was a moment of silence. Phoebe bit her lip as she watched Nathan's face. _Come on, Claire. Don't be shy. Don't be proud. Say it back. He needs to hear it…_

'"I love you, too," the cheerleader announced.

"Good-bye, Flying Man! We will see you later!" called Hiro.

And then, more silence. Hiro and Claire were gone.

"They're coming in," Peter told Phoebe and Nathan quickly. "And their bracelets are…" He groaned. "On. I can't read them anymore."

"And we can't use our powers," said Phoebe quietly, eyes wide with fear. _And here we are--just the three of us, the ones from that violent sketch of the door--and quite possibly that final sketch Peter did._

"Everything's gonna be okay," Peter told her, reaching to touch her face. "Come on." Abruptly, he stood.

"What are you doing?" Nathan hissed at his brother.

"They'll be here any minute, Nathan," Peter explained in a whisper, creeping quietly toward the door. "Maybe they won't expect us to be ready for them."

"How many of them are there?" Nathan asked quickly, moving to follow his brother.

"Five… I think," Peter replied, flattening his back against the wall beside the door.

"Come on, Phoebe," Nathan called back softly to her, motioning for her to follow him.

Phoebe quietly joined the Petrelli brothers beside the door. "So… What do we do now?"

Any reply was cut short by a creaking sound as the handle of the door began to turn…

* * *

_Finally! I'm free! _Sasha bit back an hysterical giggle as she sliced through the remaining strands of duct tape with her long fingernails. She flexed her sore hands in front of her, taking deep breaths and listening. According to her ears, she was alone.

Slowly, carefully, Sasha stood, wincing at the crackle in her knees as they straightened. How long had she been sitting here on this cold, hard floor, kept prisoner by the man with the cold, hard heart? She reached out, felt the space around her, wondering which way to go to get out of this place… _If this was a movie, someone would come and save me just about --_

"Sasha!"

Her heart leapt within her, first with fear, then with pure joy at the familiar voice calling her name. "Hiro!"

Warm, small hands were suddenly taking hers. "We are here to save you!" Hiro told her excitedly. "Me and the cheerleader!"

But before the joyous rescue could continue, a low, dry chuckle vibrated the air of the cold room.

Hiro drew one hand from hers, and Sasha heard a metallic ring, a mental picture of someone drawing a sword appearing in her mind. She clutched Hiro's hand, feeling fear and anger flooding through his small frame. She could hear Claire, the cheerleader, gasp in fear.

And Hiro said one word, a name.

"Sylar!"


	25. Violent Salvation: Part One

Hello, everyone! Sorry it's been forever! I know I said one more chapter, but Chapter 25 turned out to be too long, so I split it in two. Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. You've been so patient and encouraging!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _The heroes use Peter's invisibility power to get to the mall, where they leave Noah outside to keep watch. The others make their way into the mall, where Phoebe recognizes the metal doors as looking like the one in Peter's sketch. Meanwhile, Angela and Wyatt show up outside, joining Noah to wait. Inside the mall, the heroes get split up as they hide from some of the villains. Hiro and Claire teleport to Sasha, only to be confronted by Sylar, who has been lying in wait for them...

**Chapter Twenty-five (Violent Salvation: Part One)**

Hiro Nakamura held his sword before him, glaring at the enemy. "Sylar--you no come one step closer."

The villain smiled as he stepped further into the cold, concrete room. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I will stop you," Hiro said, taking a stance his father had taught him.

From behind him, Hiro heard Claire's trembling voice. "Hiro… We should just leave."

Hiro took a step backward, closer to where Claire and Sasha were standing, realizing the little cheerleader's wisdom.

"Don't even think about teleporting out of here," Sylar warned the little Japanese hero. "Yes, it worked last time, but…" He grinned slowly and lifted a hand. "This time, I think you'll find it a bit more difficult." He made a sharp motion with his fingers, and suddenly, Claire began sliding toward him across the floor.

"Hiro!" Claire screamed, eyes wide as her feet dragged the floor.

"Cheerleader!" Hiro exclaimed, reaching out for Claire.

"I don't think so, Hiro," said Sylar. He motioned toward Hiro with his free hand, and Hiro went flying backward to land at Sasha's feet, his sword clattering to the ground.

"Hiro! Are you alright?" Sasha bent down and helped him to his feet. She could feel fear and anger rushing through his veins.

"We must save the cheerleader!" Hiro cried.

Claire was still being dragged toward Sylar, by now only a few feet away from the murderer.

Hiro grabbed Sasha's hand. "Hold on tight to me!" he exclaimed. Then he began to concentrate hard, determined to save the cheerleader.

* * *

Noah, Angela, and Wyatt started with surprise as three people suddenly appeared in front of them.

"Claire!" Noah exclaimed.

"Dad!" cried Claire, rushing into his arms.

"Where are the others?" Noah asked Hiro over his daughter's head.

"I do not know," said Hiro quietly, his face a study of worry. "We were separated."

"My sons?" Angela asked softly, her hands clasped tightly before her.

"They are with Phoebe Agnew," said Hiro. He shrugged. "I do not know where."

"Could you teleport to them?" Noah asked.

Hiro nodded, his face brightening. "I can try!" He stepped back gently from Sasha's grasp. "I will be right back!" He closed his eyes and concentrated hard, cheeks wobbling. For a moment, his figure faded, wavered, but he did not disappear. He opened his eyes wide. "I cannot teleport to them! Something stop me!"

* * *

Sylar bent down and picked up the fallen samurai sword from the cold stone floor. He stood and held it before him in both hands, turning it this way and that, studying it, rubbing his thumb over the design on the handle. He smiled slowly.

"I can hardly wait to see you, Peter Petrelli," he said quietly, his voice echoing in the dimly lit room. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, remembering with pleasure the precognitive picture he had painted of himself stabbing Peter with a samurai sword. He had not painted what would happen next, but he already knew. He would take Peter Petrelli's power. "Things are working out for me today."

* * *

The door handle turned, then the metal door slowly began to open.

Nathan reached around Peter and grabbed the door handle, slamming the door hard. The man on the other side swore profusely. Half grinning with adrenaline, Nathan turned to his brother and Phoebe. "Find us another way out of this room. And hurry!" He shoved his shoulder hard against the door, clenching his teeth as the metal shuddered under a blow from the other side.

Phoebe and Peter moved into the center of the room, their eyes scanning the walls frantically.

"There aren't any other doors!" Peter exclaimed, his voice cracking with panic.

"And no windows," Phoebe added. She spun around, meeting Peter's eyes instead. "What do we do?" she whispered breathlessly. "We're stuck in here without our powers!"

From across the room, Nathan cursed as the door popped open, shoving him backward. He managed to keep his balance, flinging himself back at the door, slamming it shut with a clang. "Peter! Phoebe! We have to do something _now_!"

"Phoebe, help me move this desk," said Peter quickly, moving to stand by one of the big metal desks.

"What I wouldn't give for my telekinesis right now!" Phoebe groaned as she helped Peter shove the desk up against the door, giving Nathan a break.

"Or some super strength," Peter added wryly. As soon as the desk was in place, he stepped back and sighed, tossing a stray bang out of his eyes. Then he looked up at the ceiling--and grinned.

"Pete, why are you smiling?" Nathan snapped. "We're stuck in a death trap!"

"We're not stuck, Nathan!" Peter replied excitedly, hopping up onto the desk. Biting his lower lip in concentration, he reached up and began tugging on something on the ceiling.

"What are you doing?" Phoebe asked him quickly, hope rekindling inside her.

"This always works in the movies," Peter told her with a crooked grin. With a cry of triumph, he tossed a ceiling panel down to the floor, then held a hand out to Phoebe. "Come on."

A few minutes later, Phoebe found herself crawling inside the basement ceiling, following Peter and followed by Nathan. Below her, she could hear the angry shouts of the foiled thugs.

"I think we're over the room across the hall now," Peter called back. "I'm gonna try to loosen up this panel… and then we'll find out."

"Great plan, Pete," Nathan muttered, rolling his eyes.

Peter quickly loosened the panel and dropped it into the room below. "Yeah. We're in the other room. And uh… I guess I'll just drop down."

"Be careful," Phoebe told him, her voice tight with intensity.

"I will," said Peter, sliding around in the ceiling so that his feet were positioned over the hole he had just made. "Here goes nothing." Then he dropped out of sight, and Phoebe held her breath. "Ouch! Ow! I'm okay! I'm okay!"

Phoebe sighed shakily. "Good. I'm coming."

* * *

Brennan Ashton frowned, teeth clenched, as he listened to Sylar's voice through his cell phone. "Yes, sir. We'll do that, sir." With a sigh, he flipped his phone closed and turned to Bill and Fred. "Orders from the top, guys. We're supposed to shut off our bracelets."

"What!?" Bill exclaimed. "No way, man."

"Sylar says jump, so we make like frogs," Brennan replied. He held up his wrist and quickly flipped the switch on his metal bracelet. "I don't like it, though. I feel much safer with this thing on."

"Not like it helped us get through that door," Fred muttered.

The three hired hands glared at the barricaded metal door.

"I hate these freaks," said Bill.

* * *

Peter, Phoebe, and Nathan were just reaching the door to the hall when Peter stopped walking with a gasp, causing his girlfriend and brother to run into him.

"What is it?" Phoebe asked quickly.

"Something happened…" He held up his hands and looked at them, then turned to meet Phoebe's eyes. "Do you feel it?"

Phoebe suddenly did. She nodded. "Yes." Turning around, she reached out with telekinesis to replace the ceiling tile Peter had broken out. "My power is back."

Unable to resist, Nathan levitated for a few seconds. "I think our chances for survival just went up."

Peter pressed his hands against the door and concentrated. "Those five guys just got in the room we were in. They know how we got out." He turned to face Nathan and Phoebe, an intense look in his eyes. "I want both of you to leave--now. You have enough time."

"We're not leaving you to face Sylar alone," Phoebe argued, crossing her arms. "I know that's what you want, but… No. Not gonna happen."

"Phoebe--" Peter started.

"Peter," Nathan interrupted, moving to stand close behind his brother's girlfriend. "She's right."

Faced with the opposition of his beloved brother and the woman he loved, Peter yielded, bolstered by the remembrance that it was _him _he had drawn getting stabbed, not Nathan or Phoebe. "Okay. You can come with me, just… Stay back, alright?"

"I'm not making any promises, Pete," Nathan said sternly.

"Me, either," Phoebe quickly agreed.

* * *

"We have to go in after them!" Claire insisted, her voice catchy with held-back tears. "They could be stuck in there without their powers!"

"It's too dangerous, Claire," Noah replied firmly, taking her arm. "Those men in there are armed. Don't you remember how they shot Nathan?"

"Yes!" Claire exclaimed, jerking her arm out of his grasp. "And that's exactly why I'm going in there!"

"The cheerleader is right," Hiro spoke up, pushing his glasses up his nose. "We cannot leave our friends in mall alone. We must help them."

"Fine." Noah loudly cocked his shotgun. "We're going in."

* * *

"They're coming back this way!" Peter whispered quickly to the Phoebe and Nathan as they stood frozen in the hallway.

"Well we can stand and fight them," Phoebe declared steadfastly, stepping around Peter.

"No!" Peter grabbed her arm and pulled her back against him. "They can always turn their bracelets back on." His dark eyes frantically scanned the hallway, darting this way and that. Finally, they settled on a door. "There's no one in there. Let's go."

The three heroes slipped into the other room just as their enemies entered the hall.

Behind the big metal door, Nathan let out a sigh of relief. "That was close. Now what?"

They were in an empty storage room, similar in shape and size to the other rooms in the basement of the mall. Only, this one had another door.

"Through there," said Peter, nodding toward the door.

As the Petrelli brothers walked toward the door, Phoebe hung back, her breath nearly squeezed from her lungs by a sudden, cold tightness. In her mind's eye, she could see Peter's hand stretching out toward the little window on the door, blood dripping from his fingers…

"Phoebe?" Nathan turned and met her eyes, frowning with concern. "What's the matter?"

"The--the door. It's the one. The one from the picture." She lifted a shaky arm and pointed. "See the little window?"

Peter turned to face her. "It will be alright, Phoebe." He moved to her side, taking her hand and drawing her to his chest. As she rested her head against him, he whispered softly, "This is the only way."

A bittersweet tremor ran through her body at his words. "Peter, no…" She started to pull back.

Suddenly, the windowed door swung open, narrowly missing Nathan, who jumped back toward Peter and Phoebe, spreading his arms protectively.

From the shadows of the room beyond, a familiar figure stepped through the doorway with a smile on his face and a sword in his hand. "Peter's right, Phoebe," said Sylar. "This is the only way."

* * *

Brennan, Bill, and Fred stepped out into the hallway, angry and annoyed.

"Tricky little bastards," big Bill muttered as they headed across the hall toward the opposite room.

Before the three henchmen could reach the door, a voice called with cold calm, "All of you--freeze! And turn those bracelets off!"

Brennan groaned at the sight facing them--the little Japanese man, the blonde teenager, and a man with glasses and a shotgun. The henchman's spirits lifted, however, when he realized that the intruders were operating under the false assumptions that the bracelets were actually on…

* * *

"Stand back, Nathan," Peter ordered his brother through clenched teeth.

"No, Peter." Nathan shook his head, still placing himself between Sylar and the others. "I won't let you do this."

"Nathan, move."

Again, Nathan shook his head.

Peter slipped out of Phoebe's arms, stepped forward, and turned toward his brother. He raised a hand and flicked his fingers, sending Nathan sliding backward, halting at Phoebe's side. With a stern frown, Peter faced Sylar. "How did you get that sword?" he demanded.

"Peter!" Phoebe screamed. She lunged toward him, but Nathan caught her, holding her tightly against him.

"No, Phoebe," Nathan told her quietly. "We've got to bide our time."

Phoebe nodded tightly and tried to relax in his arms.

Sylar laughed and stepped back into the other room. "Your little friend rescued the blind girl, but he left this behind. Unfortunately for him, his little rescue means nothing to me. What happens to you next, Peter…" He chuckled. "Now that means a lot to me."

Peter rushed forward, following Sylar into the other room.

From where Phoebe stood, she could see that the second room was much larger than the one she was standing in, its far wall covered in strange-looking machinery. And just inside the door, Peter and Sylar stood facing each other.

Phoebe looked up at Nathan. "Nathan?" she asked, her voice shaky, her nerves close to panic. "Now?"

Attempting an encouraging smile, Nathan nodded. He planted a brotherly kiss on her forehead. "Now."

And with that, the two of them rushed toward the door.

"I don't think so," Sylar called out. He reached out a hand and, with a clang, the metal door slammed shut.

* * *

"Alright! Alright!" The man with the gray coat lifted his hands and turned to face Hiro, Noah, and Claire. "We'll turn them off…" He reached toward the bracelet on his wrist with a grin.

"Wait!"

The men all looked with surprise at Claire.

"Something's not right," said Claire, frowning. "Dad…" She gave her adoptive father a warning look.

"What is it, Claire?" He glanced quickly at her, then turned his eyes back to the henchmen.

"I don't know. I just feel…" She sighed. "Hang on a second." She moved closer to the wall and drew back her arm, slamming her hand against the wall as hard as she could.

"Claire!" Noah exclaimed.

"Ouch," said Hiro, wincing for her.

Claire held up her hand, and the men all watched as the bruises on it faded quickly. "We still have our powers!" Claire exclaimed. "The bracelets are off already!"

With a muttered curse, Noah turned back to the three men. "Drop any weapons you're holding, and do it now," he ordered.

"Not on your life!" cried the man in the back, the big one whom Hiro recognized. He reached into his jacket and grabbed something small and round, then ripped something from it, something that fell to the ground with a ping. Then, holding it above his head, he cocked back his arm.

When Hiro recognized the object as a grenade, he sprung into action.


	26. Violent Salvation: Part Two

There's one more chapter after this one (author ducks various objects thrown telekinetically). It's already written, so you won't have to worry about my idiotic procrastination on that one.

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Hiro and Claire manage to rescue Sasha from Sylar, but lose Hiro's sword to Sylar in the process. Sylar picks it up and seems quite happy about it. Meanwhile, Peter, Phoebe, and Nathan sneak away from the thugs, still hunting for Sylar. When they finally confront him, Phoebe is horrified to notice elements from Peter's precognitive paintings coming true. Peter and Sylar face each other in a large room, and Sylar slams the door shut to keep out Nathan and Phoebe. Meanwhile, Claire, Hiro, and Noah come face to face with Sylar's henchmen. One of them starts to throw a grenade, so Hiro decides it's time to be a hero...

**Chapter Twenty-Six (Violent Salvation: Part Two)**

Phoebe and Nathan ran to the door, quickly looking through the little window. They could see Peter and Sylar, both still standing, facing each other, in the center of the larger room.

"What's all that machinery over there?" Phoebe asked the congressman.

"I don't know." Nathan shook his head. "I have a feeling it has to do with these people… This Company offshoot. They must have been using this mall as a base for a long time." Quickly, he grabbed the door handle and tugged. Nothing happened, and he swore. "We've _got _to get in there!" He began feeling around the edges of the door, sharp eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Oh my gosh! Nathan!" Phoebe's hands suddenly and convulsively latched onto his shoulder. "They're fighting! Hurry!"

* * *

"Peter, your foolhardy inclination for heroism has led you straight into my trap," Sylar said quietly, smoothly, his lips quirked in a smirk. "It ends for you today."

"I don't think so," said Peter confidently. "I've seen the future."

"So have I," said Sylar softly. Then, suddenly, he made a chopping motion with his hand.

Peter was knocked down, his body crashing roughly against the floor. Wincing, he climbed shakily back to his feet. "Is that all you got?" he called boldly to his enemy. Quickly, he threw both hands before him, using telekinesis to throw Sylar backward, slamming his enemy into one of the machines lining the walls.

Sylar collapsed to the ground with a grunt, Hiro's sword clattering to the floor from his hands.

Warily, Peter inched forward. As he moved toward Sylar, he became distracted by the strange machines. They looked like the pictures of old computers he had seen in history textbooks, supercomputers from the sixties and seventies. What was their purpose?

Suddenly, Sylar stirred.

Peter stopped walking, refocusing on Sylar. He gathered his strength, preparing another onslaught against his enemy.

And then Sylar moved, his speed surprising, ridiculously fast. But he was not moving toward Peter. His arm shot out, and his hand grasped a handle on one of the machines. Quickly, the villain jerked the handle downward and jumped to his feet, facing Peter with a grin.

Concentrating hard, Peter attempted to utilize Hiro's power and freeze time. To his shock and horror, nothing happened.

Sylar began to laugh. "I hope you realize, Peter, that without your powers, you are nothing."

Peter suddenly realized what Sylar had done. Somehow, those machines worked similarly to the metal bracelets. His eyes widened as he realized that he was caught in a trap. The entire room was blocking his powers. He cast an agonized look over his shoulder, his heart clenching when he saw Phoebe's wide, scared eyes through the glass. He turned around just in time to take a fist in the face from Sylar.

* * *

Time stood still for Hiro Nakamura.

The little Japanese hero made his way around two of the villains, pausing beside the largest, Bill, the man whom Hiro had locked in the women's restroom of the Holiday Inn. He reached up for the grenade in Bill's hand, then frowned as he realized that he was too short to reach it. He jumped up, grasping for the grenade, and still fell short.

Stepping back and crossing his arms with a sigh, Hiro assessed the situation. Somehow, he had to stop Bill from throwing that grenade. "Aha!" Hiro moved back to the villain's side and began tugging on his enemy's big, muscular arm. Slowly, inch by inch, the arm came down. By the time it was level with Hiro, the little hero's face was red and he was puffing and panting with exertion. "Very big, very strong, very bad man," Hiro muttered as he pried the grenade from Bill's hand. "But Hiro Nakamura is his match!"

Suddenly, Hiro realized that everyone was beginning to move again, their motions slow, but steadily speeding up. "I run out of time!" Hiro exclaimed to himself, looking around frantically as he wondered what to do with the grenade in his hands.

* * *

Rocking backward on his feet, pain shooting through his body, Peter came to the sickening realization that Sylar was toying with him. The villain had never even bothered to pick up the sword. It seemed he was content to beat Peter to death with his fists.

Weakly, Peter attempted to block a blow aimed for his stomach. Attempted. And failed. The wind forced out of him, he collapsed to his knees, wrapping his arms protectively around his body.

"I can see that you appreciate my combat ability," Sylar chuckled, circling his enemy. "My new allies and I made it a goal to learn various forms of martial art. They never seem to grow tired of arming me with weapons I will one day use against them."

Peter collapsed forward on his hands, gasping for breath. He was suddenly scared. Why was it so hard to breath? Why could he taste blood? _You're a nurse, Peter. Figure it out. And while you're at it, try to actually kick Sylar's butt._

"What's the matter, Peter?" Sylar asked, bending over him. "Does it hurt?"

Ignoring the raging pain in his body and the metallic taste of blood, Peter lifted his head. "Yeah. It hurts," he panted. His lips quirked in a bloody grin. "Kind of like this." With everything he had left, he launched himself at Sylar, grabbing his enemy by the legs and jerking him to the ground.

Sylar's head smacked the cement floor with a satisfying crack, spurring Peter to his feet. Clutching his aching ribs, Peter rushed across the room to the machines. He quickly located the handle Sylar had pulled down, shoving it back up. Instantly, he felt the difference as his body began to heal itself, inside out. Groaning from the pain of ribs popping back into place, he slid to the ground, leaning his head back against one of the machines, relishing as the feel of painless breathing as it returned, closing his tired eyes.

"Get up, Petrelli," came an all-too-familiar voice. "I'm not through with you yet."

* * *

Phoebe watched in horror as Peter and Sylar proceeded to sling each other around the room with their powers. Soon, they were ripping objects off the walls and flinging them at each other. Both were bloodied and battered. It was small comfort to Phoebe that Peter could heal himself. She had realized very quickly that the machines in that accursed room could block his powers.

Beside her at the door, Nathan was beating himself up inside. His little brother was getting beat up, quite literally, right in front of him and he could do nothing. _Nothing! You're useless, Petrelli. Utterly useless. _"We have to do something," he muttered, more to himself than to Phoebe.

But Phoebe heard him. "You're right, Nathan." She winced as Sylar telekinetically tossed a large telephone right into Peter's face, and Peter staggered backward, blood pouring from his nose. "Something. Anything." She stood back from the door. "Nathan. Get back."

"What are you doing?" he asked quickly, moving back from the door.

"What I should have done in the first place. I'm such an idiot." She held her hands in front of her and jerked hard with her will. The door shuddered, but remained closed.

"Come on, Phoebe!" Nathan encouraged. "Harder!"

Phoebe nodded, then used her power to yank on the door again. This time, with an nerve-scraping screech, the door swung open.

Inside the larger room, Peter, bleeding and bruised, heard the door opening. He flung telekinetic power at Sylar with all his might, knocking his enemy backward, then spun to face the door. "Phoebe, no!" he shouted as Phoebe and Nathan rushed toward the open door. Peter held out a bloody hand toward the door, willing it to shut.

As the door slammed shut, Phoebe wailed in fear. Before her very eyes, she saw Peter's sketch come to life--his bloody hand stretching toward the door which barricaded him from Nathan and Phoebe. _And if _that _sketch came true… _She flung her will harder on the door as the memory of Peter's seventh sketch came back to haunt her. To her surprise, the metal door began to cave in. Laughing hysterically, she continued to pummel the door with her power, her vision blurring and her breath coming in pants.

"Phoebe! Stop! Stop!" Nathan shouted.

"I can't! I have to break it down!" Phoebe cried in reply, her voice catching in an hysterical half-laugh, half-sob.

"Stop it now!" Nathan ordered, rushing to her side. He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake. "You're killing yourself, so stop!"

Phoebe relinquished the power and stood staring up at Nathan, exhaustion, dizziness, and dread washing over her body. "We have to--we have to-- Peter--" She swallowed, panting, and nodded toward the door.

"You've bashed it so hard, I'm sure we could just kick it in," said Nathan quietly. She could tell he was trying to stay calm, but something in his eyes spoke of deep worry.

"What is it?" Phoebe asked, her words slurring slightly.

"Your nose is bleeding. Here." Nathan reached into his pocket and drew out a handkerchief, mopping gently at the blood under her nose. "If you kill yourself, how are you going to save Peter?"

Phoebe bit her lip. "I lost it, didn't I? I lost it." She shivered, then, her body shuddering violently. "Oh my gosh…"

"Stay with me, Phoebe." Nathan gave her a gentle shake. "We've got to stay calm if we're going to save him."

"I don't know if I _can _stay calm," Phoebe told him, a tear trickling down her cheek. "I'm so afraid, Nathan. I'm so afraid!"

"Everything's going to be fine," said Nathan, giving her shoulders a gently squeeze. "Now come on. No one is going to stop us from kicking that door in." He softly wiped the tear from her cheek and lifted her chin up so that she could not look away. "Peter needs us. We have to stay calm for him. Alright?"

Phoebe nodded and let him lead her by the hand, like a forlorn child, to the battered metal door. The sight what her panic had done made her wince. Well, at least good would come of it. She _had _made a way to get to Peter.

Just as they were preparing to push on the door, a loud bang rocked the basement, the walls shuddering. The sound of shattering glass could be heard in the distance.

Phoebe froze, clutching Nathan's arm. "What _was _that!?" she exclaimed nervously.

* * *

Time resumed for Hiro Nakamura.

And everyone else.

Hiro suddenly realized that he was standing in the middle of three very angry men, and they were all bigger than him.

"What did you do, little man?" one of them asked--not the big man, not the leader.

"It's kinda obvious, isn't it, Fred?" asked the leader, spinning on Fred, his gray coat swirling around him. "He tossed Bill's grenade."

"What did he blow up?" Fred asked the leader.

Another explosion sent a shudder through the mall.

"Where did you throw the grenade?" Bill, the big one, asked Hiro angrily.

Hiro took a step backward, only to bump into the leader. "I throw it in room back there, second door behind other door." Hiro pointed.

The three henchmen looked at each other, faces filled with horror, then looked back at Hiro.

"You little idiot," said the leader, a cold, calm anger coming over him. "You threw that grenade in the very room where we create experimental weapons. There's no telling what sort of flammable, explosive stuff is in that room."

Hiro blinked, not sure whether to be sorry. On the one hand, he had just blown up enemy supplies. On the other hand… He turned quickly to face Noah and Claire, who were warily observing the situation. "We must get out of here! Now!"

"You're not going anywhere," growled Bill, reaching toward Hiro.

"Hiro! Duck!" shouted Noah.

"Okay!" Hiro called, flinging himself toward the ground.

BAM!

Bill flew backward with a cry, landing on the floor, where he was still.

"I suggest you all stand back and let Mr. Nakamura come with us," said Noah calmly as smoke rose from the double barrels of his shotgun.

"Fine." The leader stepped back slowly, hands raised in front of him, motioning for Fred to do the same.

Hiro climbed shakily to his feet and hurried to join Claire and Noah across the hall. "What do we do now?" he asked.

Noah cocked the shotgun. "We get out of here."

"No!" Claire exclaimed, shaking her head emphatically. "We find the others!"

* * *

"We've got to hurry," Nathan said to Phoebe as they shoved and kicked the dented metal door. The scent of smoke was wafting into the room. "Someone's blowing things up back there."

Phoebe nodded, aiming a strong kick at the door. The metal shuddered, but the door remained on its hinges. "Nathan, maybe I should use my--"

"No!" Nathan exclaimed. "No," he repeated more quietly. He quickly flung his whole body against the door. Finally, it gave, crashing into the larger room with Nathan on top of it, the politician's eyes wide with pleasant surprise.

Phoebe quickly helped him to his feet, and the two of them stood there, staring at the sight before them.

Peter and Sylar were standing close, face to face, both of them stretching their arms out toward each other. From the looks on their faces, Phoebe decided that they were probably using Brad's pain power.

Peter suddenly noticed that Phoebe and Nathan were standing in the room. "Phoebe! Nathan! Get out of here!" he shouted, his voice tight with pain.

Phoebe shook her head. "Not until I do this." Stepping forward, she reached out with her power and flung Sylar backward, slamming him down to the ground. As soon as the villain hit the ground, she rushed to Peter's side. "Come on!" she cried, grabbing his hand.

"No! I have to end this," Peter insisted, jerking his hand from her grasp. "I have to stop him." He looked over her shoulder, meeting the eyes of his elder brother. "You know I have to do this, Nathan," he said quietly, steadily. "Get Phoebe out of here."

Nathan worked his jaw. "Peter…"

"_Do _it, Nathan!" Peter shouted.

"If anything happens to you--" Nathan started.

"If anything happens to me, _take care of her_," Peter insisted, his gaze intense. "Do you hear me, Nathan?"

"Peter!" Phoebe sobbed. "Don't do this."

Peter raised his hand. "I love you, Phoebe," he said softly. And his eyes said it, too.

Phoebe shouted protests as she was pushed backward toward Nathan by Peter's power. "Peter, stop it! You can't do it alone! Let me _go_!" Her shouts turned to a scream of despair, "Peter! LOOK OUT!" joining Nathan's cry of, "NOOOOOOOO!"

With everything he had, Peter practically threw Phoebe across the floor into Nathan's arms, then turned to face his destiny. He saw the blade flashing toward him and knew it was too late to move. He cried out in pain as the samurai sword ripped into his body, the agony jolting memories through his mind. _The time I stepped off the building, and Nathan flew up to break my fall… Nathan coming to get me in Texas, once again at my side when I fell… Nathan flying me into the air when I was about to explode… Phoebe standing in the doorway of her hotel room, too excited at seeing me in person to move… Phoebe sitting across from me on my kitchen floor, her green eyes lit up with laughter… Phoebe kissing me in the alley… Nathan leaning on me when he was shot, trusting me… Phoebe's pulse beating in unison with mine…_

Smiling calmly, Sylar twisted the blade, laughing softly as Peter gasped for painful breath.

Peter suddenly realized that only one other pain he had ever felt was as excruciating as this--and that was exploding. At least exploding was quick. If Sylar had rammed the sword all the way through, severing the spinal cord, that would have at least ended the pain. But no. Even that mercy Peter was denied.

Sylar stepped back from Peter, leaving the sword thrust in his body. The villain bowed theatrically, proudly, to Nathan and Phoebe, who stood clutching each other's arms, staring in horror. Then he turned and switched on the power-blocking machines with his telekinetic power, ramming the lever hard into the "on" position.

"Oh, Peter," Phoebe sobbed as the man she loved collapsed to his knees, clutching the sword that pierced him. She moved toward him, but Nathan jerked her back, holding her protectively close to him, his grasp desperate and convulsive, as if Phoebe was the only thing left to which he could cling.

"Peter," Nathan whispered. "Oh, God, Phoebe…" Tears began to run down his face, and he buried his face in Phoebe's hair.

"It's not over yet, Nathan," Phoebe whispered to the politician, her voice ragged with inner pain and anger. She gathered in a deep breath of air, gathered in her courage. "We can still save him."

Nathan nodded, lifting his head, eyes bright with tears. "You're right. We have to."

Slowly, they stepped apart from each other, turning to face Sylar, who stood gloating over Peter. The younger Petrelli was still on his knees, attempting to slowly pull the sword from his body.

It was much harder than it looked in the painting. The sword had gone through his abdomen on the left side, right under his ribcage. Any movement caused it to scrape torturously against the bottom rib. _Maybe Sylar missed all of my organs. What's over there? The liver, I think. Maybe he missed it. Yeah, that's probably right. Sword's stuck between my stomach, my liver, and my lungs--didn't hit any of them. _But as he tugged at the accursed thing, he began to wonder. He was hurting so badly that he was sure something _had _to be wrong…

"Come on, Phoebe," said Sylar, smiling gloatingly. "Don't you want to say good-bye?" His smile broadening, he lashed out with his foot, catching Peter in the ribs and knocking him to the ground.

Peter laid still on the floor, coughing hoarsely, his body curled around the sword that wounded him.

"This is the end for you, Peter," said Sylar quietly, intensely, bending down over his bloodied adversary. Grinning, he drew a knife from his pocket.

Thinking fast, Nathan ripped open Phoebe's backpack, nearly jerking her off balance. He quickly drew out a heavy flashlight, flinging it with all his might at Sylar.

Sylar yelled in pain and surprise as the flashlight struck his shoulder. He straightened, swinging around to face Nathan and Phoebe and raising the knife over his head.

And then, Peter was on his feet. Clenching his teeth, he grasped the handle of the sword and ripped with weapon from his body, crying out in pain as it came free. With a shout of anger, he thrust the blade toward Sylar. Sylar jumped back, eyes wide with shock, but he was too late, and the sword rammed through his chest.

Peter jerked the blade out of Sylar's body, pain blurring his vision as he watched the villain slide to the ground, eyes closed.

"Peter…"

Peter turned, swaying dizzily. He groaned involuntarily, quickly pressing a hand to his side, Hiro's sword clanging against the floor. "Phoebe…" He managed a weak smile. "We did it. We… We did it…" He took a step toward Phoebe and Nathan, then staggered as a violent, agonizing shudder shook his body.

"Phoebe, go shut off those machines," Nathan ordered, quickly taking charge of the situation. He moved swiftly to Peter's side, catching his little brother just as Peter's knees buckled.

Phoebe moved toward the Petrelli brothers, green eyes wide with fear.

"Do it _NOW_, Phoebe," Nathan commanded, gently kneeling on the floor and cradling his little brother to his chest.

Phoebe nodded mutely, then ran to the machines. Her eyes darted around for the lever she had seen Sylar pull. As soon as she spotted it, she gave it a shove. To her horror, the thing was jammed. "Nathan! It's stuck!" she cried. "I can't move it! I think Sylar jammed it on purpose!"

"Keep trying!" Nathan ordered. He looked down at his brother, his insides suddenly shaky, his throat burning with the temptation to break into hysterical sobs. "Pete… Pete… Can you hear me?"

Peter's eyes were almost closed, his mouth opened and gasping for air. "Nathan," he panted.

"I'm here, Pete. I'm here." The elder Petrelli gently stroked his brother's thick, dark hair. "Hang in there."

Peter squeezed his eyes shut as a spasm of pain jolted his body. A soft moan escaped his lips. "Is Sylar… Is Sylar dead?" he managed.

"I don't know," said Nathan, glancing with disgust at the fallen villain. "I hope so." He looked up at Phoebe, who was approaching them, a tear trickling down her cheek.

She shook her head, kneeling beside them. "I can't fix it. I can't." Rapidly, angrily, she swiped away the tear. "We have to get him out of here." Her expression softened as she reached to touch Peter's face.

"Phoebe," he murmured, his lips quirking crookedly.

"We're gonna get you out of here, Peter," she told him softly, bending to kiss his forehead. "No doubt about it."

"Come on, Pete," Nathan said, standing slowly and lifting Peter in his arms. His brother's limpness nearly scared the wits out of him, but he maintained control. "Hang in there for me."

* * *

The basement of Anderson Mall was on fire, smoke billowing through the corridors.

"My fault," Hiro muttered, shaking his head as he jogged along beside Noah and Claire. Oh well. At least he was still alive--and Claire and Noah, too. But the others… _Plying Man, we are coming to save you! And Peter Petrelli and Phoebe Agnew, too!_

This is it. This is for them.

(A/N: Thanks to all of you who are keeping up with this story! Your reviews are so encouraging! I sincerely apologize for being so slow at updating. The next chapter (and the final one) is complete and should be up tomorrow or Monday. And work on the sequel begins! It will answer a lot of questions left unanswered at the end of this story, such as, Where was Peter when he disappeared? And some of the other precog paintings start to come true.)


	27. Resurgence Post Vigil

This time, it really is the last chapter. Thank you so much to all who read and to all who review!

_Previously on Heroes (Home Fires Burning): _Sylar and Peter face off in a room separate from Nathan and Phoebe. Peter thinks he has the upper hand until Sylar reveals that the machines in the room block powers. And he switches them on. Meanwhile, Hiro, having frozen time, grabs the grenade from one of the bad guys and decides to give it a toss into another room. This happens to set the mall on fire. Back to the others: Sylar is beating Peter up pretty badly. Of course, this angers Nathan and Phoebe, who attempt to break into the room, but Peter slams the door back shut, raising a bloody hand and fulfilling one of his prophetic sketches. Other group: The henchmen are angry at Hiro for grabbing and tossing their grenade, but they cease from threatening him when Noah shoots one of them with his shotgun. The henchmen flee, and Claire insists that she and the guys find Phoebe and the Petrellis... Who happen to be in a bad situation. Phoebe and Nathan finally break into the other room. Peter, protecting Phoebe and Nathan, gets stabbed in the stomach by Sylar. Sylar kicks him down, then whips out a knife and prepares to finish him off. This plan is foiled by the resourceful Nathan, who grabs a flashlight out of Phoebe's backpack and throws it at Sylar, striking him. Sylar turns his attention on Nathan and Phoebe, but before he can throw the knife at them, Peter is back on his feet. He rips the sword from his own body and stabs Sylar in the chest. Sylar goes down. Nathan orders Phoebe to turn off the machines, while he rushes forward just in time to catch the collapsing Peter. The controls are jammed, so Nathan scoops up Peter and, with Phoebe in tow, makes his way quickly out of the room.

**Chapter Twenty-seven(Resurgence, Post Vigil)**

"We're out of that accursed room. Why isn't he healing?" Panic was evident in Phoebe's shaky, high-pitched voice as she moved quickly down the smoky hallway beside the Petrelli brothers.

"I don't know," Nathan replied through clenched teeth. He glanced down at Peter, who was limp in his arms. The younger Petrelli was barely conscious, his breathing still ragged, broken erratically by coughing and moans of pain. Phoebe had bandaged the bloody wound under his ribs with supplies from her backpack, but still the wound bled. "Peter, can you hear me?"

"Hiro…" Peter muttered, his eyes suddenly flying opened. "I thought I heard… Hiro…" He tried to lift his head from Nathan's shoulder, which only caused him to cough violently, dropping his head back to Nathan's shoulder.

"Peter, you need to heal," Nathan told him firmly, working hard to keep his voice under control.

"I can't… I can't find it," Peter muttered, closing his eyes, his face twisting in pain as another paroxysm shook him.

"Can't find it?" Phoebe repeated, meeting Nathan's worried eyes with a pair of her own.

"We're almost out of here, Pete," Nathan said quietly, keeping Phoebe's gaze.

"Need to rest," Peter gasped. "Need to sleep…"

"_NO_, Peter!" Nathan snapped, suddenly halting his stride. He gave his brother a shake. "You can't do that now."

"Nathan…" A sudden sob tore from Peter's body. "I'm so tired. Please… It hurts…" His eyelids fluttered, beginning to close.

"Peter! Don't do this to me!" Swearing, Nathan knelt quickly on the floor, supporting his brother against him. "Wake up, Peter!" Gently he patted Peter's cheek. "Come on, buddy."

Shaking, Phoebe knelt beside them. "Peter, wake up," she whispered shakily, placing her hand over his heart. She could feel it beating erratically, frantically.

Suddenly, Peter tilted his head back, eyes flying opened, his body heaving with convulsive breaths, arching his back against the pain.

"Enough of this," Nathan muttered fiercely, shaken inside at seeing his brother racked by pain. "I can't take it anymore." With a groan of effort and a muttered curse, he hauled himself to his feet, lifting Peter with him. "Phoebe, grab onto me," he ordered.

Phoebe, eyes wide and trained on the pain in Peter's eyes, loosely grabbed onto Nathan's arm.

"You're gonna have to do better than that," Nathan snapped. "Hold onto me from behind. And tightly, if you don't mind."

Frowning in confusion, Phoebe moved to stand behind Nathan, wrapping her arms around his waist. She gasped and almost started crying at the feeling of warm blood on her arm where it came in contact with Peter's side.

"Hang on," said Nathan gravely.

"What are--?"

Phoebe's question was cut off as Nathan suddenly levitated off the ground, taking Peter and Phoebe with him. Her words were lost in a gasp as the elder Petrelli burst into flight, scattering the smoke around them.

* * *

Hiro, Claire, and Noah soon found themselves on the main floor of the mall. Fire alarms and sprinklers were going off everywhere, and the security guard was nowhere in sight. Neither were Peter, Nathan, and Phoebe.

"They're not up here, they didn't seem to be down there, they're not _anywhere_!" Noah exclaimed in frustration.

Smoke was rising from the basement, and the noise of flickering flames and small explosions could be heard.

Claire could feel her hearbeat, it was going so fast and so hard. She clasped her hands under her chin, staring at the door to the basement. _My uncle… My father… My friend… I can't let them die down there… _The cheerleader lifted her chin and took off running toward the door.

"Claire!" Noah shouted.

"I have to save them!" Claire cried in reply.

"Wait, Cheerleader!" Hiro called, running to catch up with her. "I go, too!" He reached out to grab Claire's arm, then began to teleport, concentrating on the location of the Flying Man.

* * *

BAM!

Nathan gasped in surprise as something struck him in the air. He managed to keep his flight, but quickly landed, peering through the smoke for whatever had hit him, tightening his hold protectively on Peter.

"Nathan?" came Phoebe's voice from close behind him. She still clung to his waist, her arms trembling.

"It's alright. Do you see--?"

"Flying Man!"

Nathan nearly collapsed with relief. "Hiro!" He could not help but smile as the little Japanese hero materialized from the smoke like a welcome ghost, followed by the petite form of Claire. _My daughter…_"Peter!" Claire exclaimed.

"He's hurt," Nathan said, an involuntary sob causing his voice to catch. "Badly."

"And Phoebe Agnew?" Hiro asked as he and Claire rushed to Nathan and Peter's side.

"I'm here," Phoebe spoke up, slipping out from behind Nathan. Her face was smudged with soot and tears. "Hiro, you have to teleport us out of here." She moved to take Peter's hand. "Peter? Baby?"

"Phoebe," Peter managed hoarsely. His hand tightened convulsively around hers, then he groaned as a violent spasm of pain ripped through his body.

"Why isn't he healing?" Claire asked quickly, gently reaching to touch Peter's hair.

"I don't know," said Nathan, managing to keep his voice under control as he met her eyes. "You're the one who can heal. Do you have any ideas?"

Claire shook her head. "None. The only thing that stopped either of us from healing before was being stabbed in the back of the head."

"No, wait!" Phoebe spoke up suddenly. "That time he got shot in the hotel room! He didn't heal until we landed in the garden. Remember?" She glanced quickly from Nathan to Hiro, then back again.

"We have no time to talk," Hiro replied quickly, glancing around the others. "Smoke is moving faster."

"Take us out of here, Hiro," said Nathan.

Hiro stepped forward, and placed one hand on Peter's shoulder and the other on Nathan's arms. He nodded solemnly to Phoebe and Claire. "Let's go."

And then, suddenly, they were in Peter's apartment.

Nathan was the first to recover from the speed of Hiro's space-bending. Swiftly, he crossed the room to the couch and gently laid his brother down. Peter moaned softly, but did not open his eyes. The elder Petrelli spun to face the others. "We need to take him to a hospital," he said quickly. Then he groaned. "But they're probably still being watched."

"Maybe not," Claire whispered, moving to Nathan's side and clinging to his arm.

"Hiro, go to the bathroom and get me everything out of the medicine cabinet," Nathan ordered, awkwardly rubbing Claire's back. "Phoebe…" His expression gentled at the stricken look on her face. "Come help me with him."

* * *

"It's supposed to be 'spontaneous'," Claire lamented, crossing her arms and looking mournfully at her wounded uncle. "Why won't he heal?"

"This happened once before. Phoebe was right when she said that." Nathan knelt by his brother, who was shivering feverishly, his sleep haunted by pain. Gently, he reached to touch Peter's face, brushing a wayward dark bang back from the younger Petrelli's eyes. "When one of those thugs shot him in Phoebe's hotel room, he didn't heal immediately." A bittersweet smile touched his lips as Peter's tossing and turning stilled a bit at his brother's touch. "Hang in there, Pete," he whispered softly.

"Maybe we can find another healer… someone who can make Peter Petrelli get well," Hiro suggested quietly from where he stood behind Claire.

"Well where do we start looking?" Nathan muttered. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead gently against Peter's. His stomach twisted with the sickening thought that he just might lose his little brother…

Unbeknownst to the others, Phoebe, faced with a similar sickening thought, had slipped out of the room and entered the bathroom, closing the door silently behind her. Helping Nathan bandage Peter's wound had traumatized her, made her realize how close to death Peter was. She had never been one to fear her own death. Her faith and courage had always sustained her in the face of her own immortality. But now… It was Peter… And she was hiding from his death like a scared child.

She turned and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, green eyes wide and haunted, skin pale with shock and sorrow. She lifted a trembling hand to her mouth, covering it to contain the scream that was rising. Then she collapsed to her knees on the bathroom floor and began to cry, rocking back and forth, keeping her hands over her mouth to muffle the sobs._ Oh, God… Please, no. PLEASE no… please…_There was a soft knock on the door, and a soft voice said, "Phoebe Agnew?"

Hiro.

"Is he dead?" The words tore raggedly, bruised, from her throat.

"No. Peter Petrelli still is alive. You okay?"

"No," she replied, shifting her legs so that they were stretched out in front of her. She moved to lean against the bathroom counter, biting her lip as she remembered the way she and Peter had sat against the kitchen counters, had fallen asleep together on the kitchen floor…

"Peter Petrelli say your name," Hiro told her quietly. "He need you."

Rebuking her own cowardice, Phoebe rose shakily from the bathroom floor. She slowly opened the door, meeting the gentle eyes behind the glasses. "Thanks, Hiro. I needed to be reminded of that." She followed Hiro back to where Peter laid on the couch, his shirt open to reveal the bloody bandage around his waist, still mostly unconscious, still racked by spasms of pain. Still perched on the edge of death. She quickly made her way to his side, kneeling by Nathan. "Come on, Peter," she whispered, taking his hand. "Live."

Nathan met her eyes then. His looked as haunted and sorrowed as she knew hers must. "I can't get him to heal, Phoebe," he said in a voice like a lost child's. "I don't know what to do."

"It is in his will," said a small voice from behind them.

Phoebe, Nathan, and Claire all looked at Hiro.

"He heal before in Flying Man's garden," Hiro said, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "He must use his willpower, just like in comic books. When a hero is down, almost defeated, he must use his will and get back up again."

"But we're not in a comic book," Claire pointed out despairingly. "This is the real world."

"Yes, but… Look what we can do," said Hiro confidently. "And we are in real world."

Hope touched Claire's eyes then.

Nathan and Phoebe looked at each other, then looked quickly to Peter.

"Did you hear that, Pete?" said Nathan intensely. "I think Hiro's right. You have to heal yourself, buddy."

Phoebe laid a hand on Peter's chest, where she could feel his rapid, erratic heartbeat. "Come on, Peter. It's up to you now. The power is in your will."

Slowly, Peter opened his eyes, still wincing in pain, still breathing labouredly. "I can't do it. I can't…" He turned his head from them, panting with the effort.

"Why not?" Nathan asked impatiently.

"I'm scared, Nathan," Peter managed. His body tensed for a moment in pain, then slowly relaxed, trembling.

"What are you afraid of?" Claire asked, coming forward, keeping her arms crossed tightly.

"I don't want to lose control," said Peter breathlessly.

"You won't!" Phoebe replied suddenly and fiercely. "You've healed before. You can do it again!"

"And from much worse than this," Claire added quietly. "Come on, Peter."

His pain-ravaged eyes looked from Phoebe, to Claire, to Hiro, then to Nathan. "I'll try. If I start glowing--"

"We'll stay right here," Nathan said firmly. "No one's leaving you, Peter."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Peter said wearily. He gasped and shut his eyes as a convulsion shook him, his body going rigid and his back arching in an attempt to fight off the pain.

Obviously sick of seeing his brother in pain, Nathan moved before anyone else could, quickly scooping up Peter in his arms and sitting on the couch, cradling his younger brother like he would one of his children. "It's okay, buddy," he soothed. "You're gonna be alright. Just… Concentrate on healing."

Peter nodded against his brother's chest, a whimper escaping his lips.

Phoebe hopped up onto the couch beside the Petrelli brothers and began to gently stroke Peter's hair. "I love you, Peter," she whispered intensely. "You'd better heal yourself."

* * *

Peter reached deep inside himself and began breaking down the barriers he had built up subconsciously around his power, the barriers he had put up to guard the ones he loved. The pain was a distraction, and the exhaustion, but he could feel Nathan's strong arms around him, could hear his brother's heartbeat. And Phoebe's gentle hands stroked his face, his hair. Who would be there to protect them if he died? He had to live for them; he couldn't let them down, not now, not when they had faith in him, not when they believed he would succeed.

He was finally able to reach his power and concentrate on self-healing. _This is gonna hurt, _he thought grimly. And it did. He felt every tear of his insides knit back together, felt the internal bruises fade, the severed blood vessels close. As his sliced skin began to heal, he thought he couldn't take it any longer. _Healing hurts worse than dying!_

"Get his legs, Hiro!" Nathan shouted as Peter started to flail, moaning in pain. He held on tightly to his brother's body, locking Peter's arms against his sides. Phoebe continued to touch Peter gently, stroking and soothing, obviously trying to hide the trauma she was feeling. Claire stood nearby with her eyes closed, lips moving. Praying, possibly.

The little Japanese hero grabbed Peter's legs, his face twisted in concentration. "I cannot hold on for very long, Flying Man!" he exclaimed.

"It will be over soon," Claire assured him with the confidence of one who regenerated often.

Suddenly, Peter gasped loudly, his eyes flying opened. His body jerked once, violently, then was still.

"Peter?" Phoebe spoke up shakily, stroking his forehead.

"Peter!" Nathan exclaimed, fear wrenching his heart as he watched his brother's eyes slide shut. "Peter!" he repeated more loudly, giving the limp body in his arms a shake. He met Phoebe's eyes, panicked.

Phoebe quickly slid her fingers to Peter's throat, eyes wide. Then, slowly, her features relaxed. "He's alive," she breathed.

Nathan sighed with relief and reached to take Phoebe's hand. "He's alive." He repeated her words with a weak smile, squeezing her hand, sealing the brotherly, sisterly bond that had been growing between them.

"I need to--I need to check his wound," Phoebe said quietly, shakily, slipping her hand from Nathan's. Then she began to unwrap the bandage from Peter's waist, tossing the bloody fabric aside. A smile transformed her face, then, giving it a strange unearthly beauty that touched something deep inside Nathan and made him think, strangely, of his friends and family. _That's what love looks like, _he thought as he peered at Phoebe's face.

She met Nathan's eyes, then. "Look. He's fine."

The skin of Peter's stomach was smooth and unbroken, albeit dotted with bloodstains.

Peter was healed.

"Thank God!" Nathan exclaimed, hugging Peter tightly.

"He did it!" Claire cried joyously. Nathan was unsure whether she meant Peter or God or perhaps both.

Hiro yelled something in Japanese (which was perhaps the equivalent of "he did it"), beaming and throwing his arms up toward the sky.

Peter awoke then, looking around dazedly. "Nathan? Phoebe?"

The two whom he asked for instantly wrapped him up in an encompassing hug. Claire soon joined them, her pretty face streaked by tears of joy. They all laughed as Hiro Nakamura through his arms around them all.

In the midst of the warm and crowded hug, Phoebe felt a thrill run through her bones as Peter's lips found hers.

Phoebe closed her eyes. The moon was shining.

(A/N: It's a wrap! Let me tell you, this has been one exciting journey--which will continue with the sequel, a work in progress at this time. Unanswered questions will be answered, relationships will be developed, and heroes will be... well, heroes. Any suggestions and questions are welcome. You can leave them in your review :) or e-mail them to me at . I will try to answer any reviews and e-mails as swiftly as possible. However, my Private Messages are down, so don't even try that. Much Heroes love to all!)


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